Shadowed Heart
by Feral Phoenix
Summary: All that I've been through, all that I've done... has just led me to the question: Who am I? WHAT am I? The end is only the beginning for a certain biskmatar. This is the story of Llednar Twem.
1. The End

Shadowed Heart--Part 1

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own FFTA or ANY of the characters, classes, races, etc. etc. Llednar is just such a cutie that he needs a hug. And I have set out to give it to him. (pats) Ghaleon, my muse, and Karst, his secretary, are not owned by me--just employed

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a reposted version of the story, hence some of the earlier chapters aren't so good and my old author's notes will still be hanging all over the place. Why? Because I am too busy and too lazy to fix them. So there. Don't want to read them, scroll past them.

She sent me to stop that kid. To keep him from breaking the world, and killing all the people inside it. She told me that she and the prince were depending on me.

I knew that according to her, my life was "dispensable". After all, I wasn't "real". I was an illusion to her, to the prince--she had created me. Even though she'd protected me with the most powerful law ever made in Ivalice, I was still just an old copy. It would be no loss to her, really, if I lived or died.

She--the woman I knew as my mother, Queen Remedi.

Sometimes it's hard to contain the bitterness I feel towards her. I know that she is responsible for callously creating me without the natural ability to be happy. But still, if it weren't for the queen, I wouldn't be alive. And so, in some sad, twisted, impossible way, I love her. Even as I hate her for what she has done to me. I still love her--she is the only parental figure I have ever known.

Still, it was Queen Remedi who sentenced me to almost certain death that day.

My name is Llednar Twem. Impossible twin to Prince Mewt Randell. Misfit of Ivalice. Created from all of the prince's hate, fear, depression, and uncontrollable power. He is no longer capable of such things in large degrees. I am not capable of shyness, happiness, or freedom.

I was created as a last defense against the boy named Marche, who wanted to take away everything that Mewt held dear--this world, the queen, his friends, even me. That was my "purpose" and what I existed for. So naturally, the other palace guards and myself were put in a position to defend Ambervale Chapel against his intrusion.

As the members of his clan fought the members of mine, we crossed blades. I should just have used my power of Omega to wipe him out in an instant, but I wanted to see his power. No... I wanted to be fair. Even though I was a biskmatar, I could still be honorable.

My mistake.

When I first felt that sword pierce my side, it didn't seem like anything bad. What the hell, I could still move all the necessary body parts to put up a fight. But I'd never been wounded in a battle before. I wasn't prepared for the loss of blood, the dizziness, the growing weakness. The laws of fortune always protecting me had kept me from physical harm.

I knew, now... I was in trouble. It grew harder to parry, to block, to strike. I couldn't tap the power needed to use Omega anymore. I landed fewer and fewer blows now. A red haze was beginning to block my vision.

Then... the last strike, glancing off my collarbone and shattering it. I gasped from the pain, falling to my knees. My strength was totally depleted. I was exhausted, but still, I had to drag on the power I could still use... the power the queen had given me... I struggled to get up.

"Ugh... my body... I feel so strange..." Even my voice sounded broken. "I have to keep on... I can't lose... have... to win..." Finally, I was getting the slightest bit of energy back! I could fight again!

The pain came back, sharper than ever, focused at my heart. Was that strangled, terrified cry mine? Something shattered within me, and everything went white.

---

Floating above the floor of the chapel. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Didn't need to. Everything was fading into white. _Why _was I so afraid?

"So. You failed." It was Remedi's voice.

"Mother..." the choked gasp that escaped my throat was completely pitiful. Why couldn't I move? Why couldn't I see her? Everything was fading out into white now. Where was Mewt? What about the fight? Had I really... was it possible that I could actually lose?

Where was this terror coming from?

"You're dying." She stated it calmly, as though it were an everyday occurence.

What! Preposterous! Me, dying? Impossible! The fortune law...

Oh. Yeah. That. It had been disabled during the fight.

"Why do you think you can't move? Why you can't speak anymore? Why you can just barely see? I would think that you, of all people, should know."

An image formed in my mind, as though I was watching the end of the fight from far off. The replay of my own weakness was bad enough, but then...

After that last blow, my body turned to stone. Stone! Was that why I couldn't...? But it still wasn't over yet... the shell that had been me shattered into thousands of pieces.

My mind was numbed by that image. I could barely think. So that was it, then. But why... why was I still here, if out there, I was already gone...?

"Your soul will fade soon without a body. Not even I can keep you alive for very long. There is only one way that you will possibly survive."

Already the world was beginning to fade away from me. Everything was going white. Out of nowhere, I was given voice again. "NO! NO! Someone... help! I can't! I have to protect the prince! Mother... please! You have to...! Someone...!" Why did that white nothingness frighten me so? Hadn't I been wishing to die since I was born? "Please..."

Mama?-- Mewt! Where was he? That was his voice!

"Yes, dear?"

What's wrong with Llednar? I can't feel his power anymore! You have to help him!--

"I'm afraid it might be too late for that, Mewt..."

"Mewt...!" My voice was growing weaker. If something didn't happen soon...

I don't _care! _He's my only friend left!-- At least someone still cared for my sake. --Don't let anything bad happen to him, Mama!--

"Mewt, he lost the fight with that horrible boy. Are you sure that you really want such a weak friend?" Remedi's voice was wheedling, as though she wanted to be rid of me. It hurt. My own mother, the woman who had given me birth, was ready to throw me away like a broken toy.

A friend is a friend! Please... please help him!-- Mewt sounded as desperate as I felt. Did he know what had happened to my body...? --If he's hurt badly enough, he'll break, just like the crystals!--

In my blurring, fading vision, the queen was not herself anymore, but a swirling, glittering bluish entity. "If that is what you wish."

There was a heavy pulse in my chest, and I cried out in pain. I hadn't realized that my heart had stopped before then. Another heartbeat. Another. I gasped in a deep breath of air, wincing with the pain of my collapsed lungs reinflating. The white was gone, but my consciousness was spinning away into the darkness, spiraling down and down and down and...

I knew no more.


	2. Second Chance

Shadowed Heart--Part 2

See disclaimer in Part 1

Carefully, I opened one eye, being overly cautious. For one thing, I had no idea where I was. For another, I didn't know what condition my body was in. No point in being stupid and getting hurt if I didn't know, right?

The cold shocked me. Really shocked me. It was freezing! It was never this cold in Ivalice...

Ivalice? What? Where was that? Where had that thought come from?

It dawned on me as I tried to rack my memory as to what kind of place Ivalice was. I had no memory of it. No memory of anything, really. Except for my own name. And what kind of knowledge was that?

As I tried harder to think, a few more things started to come back to me. Some kind of fight... I'd been badly hurt. And a strange bluish sparkling thing. Weird...

Slowly, I came to realize that I wasn't alone. I was lying on... a bench...? on a town street. No... city. Lots of people were bustling past, and wearing the most ridiculous clothes I'd ever seen. Big, puffy colored tunics that only came down to one's waist! Strange, rough blue-colored breeches kept tight against the skin. Flimsy little slipper-shoes that wouldn't survive a trek between towns for anything. A waste of gil. And everyone was human. Human! Where were the bangaa and vieras, the nu mou and moogles?

What? Gil? Bangaa? Moogles? What was I thinking? Uggh. These half-remembered things would be the death of me!

I took a deep breath and slowed myself down. It would do no good to get frustrated. Okay. So I'd lived in a place called Ivalice. There were other races besides humans there. The currency, or whatever, was called gil. And it was pretty warm there.

I could just vaguely remember a deep, potentially serious wound in my side. Carefully, I probed my ribs with one finger. No trace of a bone break or even a cut--just, apparently, a really big bruise. Which hurt like heck and would probably be turning green and purple soon, if it hadn't already. Still, fine by me. Bruises were really quite preferable to hemorrhaging.

I also took the time to inspect my clothes. A pair of those same coarse blue breeches I'd seen on a lot of the people around was also on me. My own shoes, though made pretty small, were constructed from tough leather. My shirt, made of thin material, faded from pale red to white, with spiraled patterns on the shoulders. Another white, shirtlike garment was tied around my waist. I knew without looking that I was still wearing my favorite hat (it was the only piece of clothing I was wearing that was familiar).

Carefully, I got up, ignoring the ache in my side and my collarbone. I was cold, but movement would be able to help that. Also, I could find a place to stay--without somewhere to call home it would be pointless to go on living, and I would go on living. I wouldn't just lay down and die without putting up a good fight first, that much I knew!

I looked through the glass windows of the nearby stores. The crowds milled, dispersed, and gathered to buy goods and to look at wares. I didn't see anyone I vaguely recognized... but that was to be expected, as I was in an unfamiliar place.

Passing a dark building, I caught sight of two glowing orbs. I turned slightly and scrutinized the boy I saw there--my reflection. Ragged blonde hair with bangs that fell into my face... pale brown eyes with the slightest hint of yellow-ochre. Almost delicate features and deep shadows scored under my eyes. The deep sadness and confusion I felt in my heart burned in my face. Somehow the frailty of my body came as a surprise. I guess that wherever I'd lived, I'd been used to being strong.

I headed on, shivering and instinctively wrapping my arms tightly together against my chest to keep warm. My breath rose in a fine cloud of mist before me every time I exhaled. If I didn't find somewhere to stay, I would probably freeze to death in the night. And it was already evening. I'd have to hurry...

Feeling a sort of tug at the corner of my soul, I stopped. As if I was drawn by a chain, I looked up into the window panel of the nearby store. I couldn't resist it--I was compelled to do so.

A group of four children, all roughly in the same age group as me, were gathered by the counter, making their purchase together. Three boys and a girl, with the smallest boy supported by a pair of crutches. My heart started to pound at double its normal rate as my eyes were drawn to one of the boys; a quiet kid with slightly frizzy brown hair and hooded, smoky blue eyes. He was dressed in a deep green, heavy-looking shirt and (once again) those seemingly very popular blue breeches. (In fact, all of the gathered kids were wearing a pair.)

Although my memory was still choked in haze, there was _no possible way _in the _entire world _that I wouldn't recognize that boy. Breathlessly, I whispered his name, keeping the sound locked deep inside my chest as though it were the only treasure ever worth protecting.

Mewt.

---

The queen left me alone with the prince after introducing the two of us and dismissing their attendant, Babus Swain, to escort the royal Judgemaster out of the palace. She knew, as every mother or creator knows, that we would get along just fine. Mewt took me back into his spacious quarters and invited me to flop down on the bed with him.

"How come Mama sent you here?" he asked curiously, cupping his face in his small hands, which just barely peeped from the lacy sleeves of his yellow tunic-shirt. Just seeing the way that the prince dressed made me feel a little uncomfortable. After all, my own clothing was toughened and scarred from numerous battles, and I wasn't exactly in the most presentable order.

I shrugged. "Well... the queen wants me to protect you. And keep that kid Marche, or whatever his name is, from making you go home against your will." Besides the sense that I was a little out of my league fashion-wise, I felt entirely open and trusting towards Mewt Randell, who I'd just barely met. "But, as for me... I want to be your friend."

Mewt's eyes widened a little. "Why... why do you want to be my friend...?" he asked, a little unbelievingly.

I sighed, the familiar stab of loneliness resurfacing in my heart. "I don't really have any. Most people think I'm kind of weird, and avoid me. I've seen some of them give me weird looks in the corridors, and stuff. And whenever I go into the palace guards' mess, where I'm supposed to live, people always stop talking to each other and go off somewhere else. It's as though... as though I scare them or something. I don't understand. But the queen told me that you didn't really have it easy in your other world either, so I thought that maybe..."

"I don't think you're scary."

I looked up. Mewt's hazy blue eyes were exploring my features, catching all the little likenesses between us. Besides our hair and eyes, we pretty much had the same delicate facial features and body structure. That was part of the reason that Queen Remedi had had to lay a special law on me that kept me from ever getting hurt in battles, called a fortune law. Although my power could be downright incredible, I didn't have very much stamina and could be easily knocked aside by a powerful blow. With invincibility as well as the strength of Omega with which I had been gifted, I could protect the prince with ease.

"I think you're like me." Mewt's gaze was open and honest. "You have the same look in your eyes that I always had, after... after people picked on me, back there. I think you can understand. I haven't had many friends either... only three..."

"Three?" Lucky. "Who...?"

Mewt smiled. "Ritz Malbeur had always been my best friend. She always told all the bullies off for picking on me. And Doned Radiuju. He knew what it was like to have hardships in your life. And... and Marche, too."

I couldn't stop the slight rise of my eyebrows. "But I thought that your mom said he wanted to send you back to the other place, the place he thinks you belong in. And that he didn't really care what you thought about it. Now I'm confused..."

"Okay, I'll explain," Mewt said happily, glad for a chance to tell his own side of the story for once. "Marche and his brother Doned had just moved into the town of St. Ivalice, where we lived on the other side. And everyone always picked on him like they did me..."

---

The memory faded as soon as it surfaced in my mind long enough for me to know where I had seen Mewt before. He was my only friend, my charge, and my prince. So he was here too.

The boy with crutches looked out the window and stared at me, his eyes going wide. He tugged at the sleeve of the leader, who had blonde hair and a long rattail. The leader, who looked freakishly familiar, waved one hand absentmindedly as if to say, In a minute, wait for me. Instead, the boy poked at the shoulder of the sole girl in the group, a nonchalant-looking young lady with long, crisp white hair that fell luxuriously to her waist. The girl turned, looked out the window at me, and let out a cry of surprise and indignance. She came storming out the door before I could even begin to coax my freezing body to react, grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me inside.

"Stupid kid!" she cried, fixing me with a piercing emerald-eyed stare. Although her voice had an exasperated tone to it, I could also detect a little bit of rough concern. "What do you think you're doing, standing out there without putting your sweater on? You'll get sick, idiot!" She then paused, stared at me a little bit more, and gasped as though something in her mind had suddenly clicked. "Guys! Guys, get over here quick! You aren't going to _believe _this!"

The others all turned, and the boy with crutches began laboriously moving over to us. Mewt's eyes widened in recognition and he took a few steps forward.

"Llednar... How... it's really you...?" He sounded completely bewildered. We just stared at each other for a few seconds, and then he ran to me, giving me an awkward, one-armed hug, letting go only after several moments had passed. "I thought... I thought that you'd...!" Mewt could barely complete a single sentence, he was so amazed at seeing me.

I looked at the others again. "Doned," I whispered, finally recognizing the blue-eyed, brown-haired kid with the crutches. Turning to the girl, I searched my fragmented memory until a clear image came up. "And Ritz. You too... and Mewt..."

The blonde leader was the only one who hadn't yet come to greet me. He was only staring, shocked, a tear beginning to well in the corner of his eye. My hand went to the badly bruised wound on my side as I remembered that his was the hand who had wielded the sword inflicting it. Marche.

Marche squeaked and ran over to us, laying an arm around my shoulders and looking as though he'd rather hug me half to death but respected my wish to be a little untouched. "You're okay!" The relief in his voice was almost painful to hear. Okay? Huh? "You're alive, and you're here! I didn't... you're not... you're still okay, and nothing seems to have happened to you! How? How did you get here?"

I suddenly felt very small, and looked down at the ground. "Marche... Mewt... you guys..." They waited expectantly for me to speak. "What is this place...? I-I don't even know how I got here... I can barely remember anything... but I know that I know you... and..."

Ritz gave my shoulder a gentle shake. "Before that, though, you'd better put that sweater of yours on, kiddo. You're really cold, and you'll get sick if you don't put on warm clothing out here." Seeing my confusion, she untied the shirtlike thing that I'd had around my waist and held it out to me. "Okay, just slip it on over what you're already wearing." I obeyed her instructions. Even though I could barely remember Ritz, it was easy to do something she told you because she just had that big-sisterly air that let you know she was concerned in her own gruff, formal way.

"Okay then, what do you remember?" Marche asked, leading us off to a corner of the shop so that we wouldn't be overheard. "No matter how vague it is, tell us... if you're having trouble remembering things, then..."

I curled up into a half-sphere on the wooden seat. "Not much... I have some impressions of meeting all of you before, but I can only really remember being with Mewt. But... I can kind of remember a fight..." I curled tighter, hissing a little as it squeezed still more pain out of my aching side. "I was really, really hurt... dying maybe..." Marche looked at the ground, a shamed expression on his face. I shrugged helplessly. "I just know that there was this blue thing... and then the next thing I knew, I was waking up on a bench here."

Everyone was silent for a long time. Finally, Marche spoke up. "We need to find out if you can stay over at someone's house tonight. I'm guessing that this is your first time ever being in St. Ivalice, so I don't think you'll really have had somewhere to go."

"Why don't we all hang out at your place?" Mewt suggested. "If we're all together, we'll have a better chance of figuring out what's going on." The way Mewt said "all together", I knew that he was including me. It was a good feeling to have a friend like him.

Ritz got a dubious look on her face. "I have no idea if Mom would even let me stay over at a boy's place all night. I mean, we are in high school, even if Mewt skipped a couple of grades to get in."

Doned poked out his tongue at her. "I'm still in fifth grade! You can't forget me!" I stared at all of them blankly. What in the world _were _they talking about?

"I think we just lost Llednar again," Marche commented lightly. "I figure we'll have a lot of explaining to do when we get back to my house. And Ritz, my mom is around, so wouldn't that be okay? Even if it isn't, then you should still stay for a while. Good idea, Mewt."

"Sorry," Ritz offered to me as she dug in a little purse strapped to her waist. She pulled out some kind of rectangular black thing with little colored spots on it and a wire sticking out of one end. Ritz poked some of the colored spots in a pattern and then held the thing up to her ear. She waited for a few seconds, then began to mouth, "Pick up, pick up, pick up..."

I stared blankly and blinked. I didn't understand this place at all.

"That's a phone," Mewt explained to me in an undertone. "You can use them to talk to people over long distances. I'll explain more later."

"Yeah, hi?" Ritz was talking into the black 'phone' thing now. "Hi, Mom, it's me. No, nothing much. Uh huh. Uh huh. Yeah, I know. Thanks for getting that for me. By the way, the guys want to know if I can stay over for the night...? Yeah, at Marche's. Mewt's going to be there too, and another friend of theirs." She paused, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Marche's mom will be there... you know, she'll be sort of a chaperone. That okay? Fine... I'll just come back tomorrow morning." She pushed a different colored symbol, then handed the 'phone' to Mewt. "Here. Call your dad."

Mewt took the object and used a different pattern of spots to contact his father. "Hi Dad..." he said softly. "I'm with Marche and Ritz and Doned. They want to know if I can stay over with Marche for the night... thanks. It's important, really really important. It's Llednar. He's here, Dad. I mean really here." A pause. "I know. I know... I remember too, but he's alive and he's standing right next to me." I remembered with a jolt that Mewt's father was the royal Judgemaster of all of Ivalice, whose subordinates took care of refereeing most engagements. Judgemaster Cid was reknowned. He was here, as well as everyone else...? Was this the 'other side' that Mewt had referred to so often when we talked together? "I'd put him on, but he has absolutely no idea how phones work... he's pretty confused out here, and I think he's got some kind of amnesia... yeah..." Mewt turned to me and covered part of the 'phone'. "Dad wants to know if you'd like to stay with us after tonight. What do you think?"

"It's an honor..." I nodded. "Sure. I have no place better to go."

"He says he'd love to," Mewt reported into the device. "Thank you so much, Dad. Okay. Bye." He pressed the same symbol Ritz had to end her conversation, handed the 'phone' back to Ritz, and put a hand on my shoulder. "So for a while now, your last name is going to be Randell like ours, okay?"

I shrugged. "I guess." No harm in that. And on top of everything else, I'd gotten a place to stay, a place to call home!

"Let's get back to my house then," Marche said, leading us back outside. "And... Llednar, I'm really, really glad that you're okay... I thought I'd..." I stared at him, scrutinizing his relieved yet shamed expression. He thought he'd what? "No... never mind. We can talk when we get back." And for the rest of the walk, he was silent.

I could just barely remember a conversation with Mewt about Marche's greatest wish being to never harm or kill another living being.

He thought he'd what? He thought he'd killed me? Had... had it really been that bad?

I felt an echo of the deep, shattering pain in my heart and shuddered.


	3. Friends and Secrets

Shadowed Heart--Part 3

See disclaimer in Part 1

Author's Note: Things to know (probably answering a few questions too)... First of all, Doned's crutches. I couldn't help taking pity on him and getting him out of that stupid wheelchair. Besides, in the game, Marche mentions that he would do everything in his power to help Doned be able to walk in the real world, and I thought that that would be a nice tie-in. (nyo) Also, note that yes, Ritz has stopped dying her hair (although she has asked her parents to get her some green dye--more about that later). Secondly, about the pairings... there will be a little successive Llednar and Ritz fluff, but I am a BIG supporter of the Marche-and-Ritz couple thing, so... besides, I already have another girl to stick Llednar with (besides myself). Lastly, there will be a future visit to Ivalice, but I'm not going to spoil that right now (especially now!) what with the continuing storyline in the real world.

Peace to the world, rock on, watch some .hack/SIGN, play FFTA till your thumbs fall off, and DDR. After you read this chapter.

---

I pushed the door to the house open slightly, peeking in. I'd already seen that no one was home, having watched for a good few weeks for my chance. The family who lived there was probably off on vacation or something. I most likely should've waited even longer just to make sure, but hunger was starting to make me weak. I was already stumbling while I walked, and it made me dizzy to climb anything. I needed a warm place to sleep. Besides, I had the feeling that the people who lived here wouldn't mind that I'd chosen their house as a place to stay--the only adult here was a little broken down, and the kid was nice. I'd spent a very, very long time watching.

I already knew where the kitchen was--I'd seen it every day and watched with longing. I headed there, opened a cupboard, and took out a packet of dried ramen. Ramen was the best, but I hadn't had it since the last time I'd lived in a house--over two years ago.

While the ramen cooked, I explored the rest of the house. The boy's room was the most interesting one to me. A large, heavy-looking book was open on his bed--as I flipped through it, I couldn't help but be captivated. Although I knew that the language was an old one, different than French or Japanese, I could still read it, and the story was just great--a fantasy about heroes, saving their world. I left the book where it was, going to explore further. I'd be able to look at it more later.

After I ate, I went straight back to the book, getting sleepy. I'd meant to read more, but I was just way too tired. I laid one hand on its metal cover, closing my eyes.

"I wish I could meet my real family," I said dreamily. "And that I'd never have to worry about living on the street again."

---

"Wake up! Hey, Llednar, wake up!" It was Ritz, shaking my shoulder briskly. I ignored her. "Hey! Earth to Llednar!" She stopped, sighing exasperatedly. "Okay, fine, don't come down to dinner. I didn't tell you to go to sleep as soon as we got here. Dozychops." I listened to her footsteps recede and tried to remember what I'd been dreaming about. All I could really get was that I'd been hungry. On second thought, I might want to eat something after all.

"Dinner...?" I sat up, yawning. Ritz looked over her shoulder at me.

"Ramen. Hope you like it. Marche's family eats it for almost every meal." Ritz walked on, but more slowly. I stretched, yawned again, and got up, chasing after her.

"I love ramen! Wait!" Seeing me coming, Ritz began to speed up until it became clear that there was going to be a playful race down to the kitchen. I passed her and tore down the stairs, catching my foot on the bottom one and falling flat on my face.

"Ow..." I looked up to see Ritz still on the stairs, laughing her fool head off and leaning on the wall for support. I made a face at her. "I still beat you."

"That's why I never run down stairs, stupid!" she replied between fits of giggles. "I prefer to laugh at the idiots who trip!"

I crossed the room to Marche's family's sofa, grabbed a pillow, and chucked it at her. "Shut up!" Ritz dodged, stuck her tongue out at me, and threw it right back. In a few seconds, we were both hurling pillows and various other unbreakable objects at each other, trying (and failing) not to laugh.

Eventually we both just collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles, unable to throw anything anymore. Overcoming herself, Ritz smiled and asked, "Hey, were you just happy?"

I froze, cocked my head to one side, and looked at her, considering. I... guess I had been. It felt a little strange, as if I hadn't been happy for a long time, but... I was. "I... I think so..."

"There's a first time for everything," Ritz replied with a smile. I felt a sharp flush rise to my cheeks as she stared at me. Why had I suddenly gotten so tongue-tied...?

"Hey, if you two are done wrecking the living room..." Marche said patiently from the kitchen. "I thought you wanted dinner."

Oh yeah. Dinner. "Sorry." I shrugged at the mess. "Guess we got a little carried away with throwing things."

Reaching over, Marche fluffed my hair. "That's okay, so long as you help clean it all up later. The ramen's getting cold."

"RAMEN!" I ran into the kitchen, found an empty seat, and sat down, attacking the food and getting a laugh out of everyone else around. I let them think whatever they wanted. Heck, _I _really liked ramen. If they had a problem with that, then they could go stuff it.

I cleaned out my food in a few minutes, but politeness demanded that I stay at the table to wait for the others to finish as well. Marche's mother tried to strike up a conversation with me.

Marche's mother didn't really resemble either of her sons, except in hair and eye color. She was of average height with long, fine brown hair and clearly cut features. She had the impression of someone falsely cheerful and always tired, busying herself with work to prevent feelings of emptiness.

"So, you're a friend of Marche's?" she asked me, smiling. "I didn't quite catch your name."

I nodded. "Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. I'm Llednar Randell." It would probably be best to assume my identity as related to Mewt right away.

"He's Mewt's cousin," Marche broke in. "He came in from out of town just recently, so we all just met him. But he's nice."

"I see the family resemblance now," Ms. Radiuju said with another slightly empty smile. "You boys have the same face."

"We get that a lot," Mewt replied quietly.

Something about this setting made me a little uncomfortable. "Excuse me..." I said, gathering what dishes were empty and taking them to the sink, loading them in and leaving. I headed into the living room and sat down on the stairs, sighing a little.

To my surprise, Marche came to join me a little afterwards, sitting beside me and looking gloomy. "I know how it is," he told me. "A lot of people are unnerved when they come here. Mom's been like this ever since Dad left..."

I nodded, remembering something Mewt had said once. "I'd heard that your parents were divorced. But it's not just that... it was that I was thinking that your mom looks nothing like you. I guess you take after your father."

Marche made a face. "Nope. He's so much like Doned, it's scary."

"So you're the oddball, then?"

Marche pulled another face. "You could say." I gave him a questioning look. "See, Doned's dad... isn't really my dad, either..." he explained, lowering his voice. "I haven't got a dad."

"So, what does that mean...?" I asked, trying to figure out the implications. "I'm not sure I understand."

"My mom told me the story at least a thousand times, before Doned was born," he continued. "A little before she and Doned's dad got married, she got pregnant with me. There wasn't any dad... that's why I say I have none. Even though I grew up with her husband, I always knew that I wasn't really his son. That feeling of us not being a real family has been here for a long, long time. Most people think it's because of the divorce, though.

"Besides Ritz, you're the only one I've told about this. Mewt probably knows by now, too... Ritz would've explained things to him if he got curious. But Doned really, really shouldn't know. Because... he's grown up thinking that I'm his real brother... it'd just destroy his world if he knew the truth."

I was astounded that Marche had let me into his confidence so easily. We'd just barely gotten to be friends anyway! Could there really be a place where such trust could exist...?

I laid one hand on Marche's shoulder sympathetically. I knew what it was like to live knowing that those who you were raised to know as your parents weren't related to you. "Hey, you mind helping me pick up the room? I don't know where all the stuff is supposed to go."

A ghost of a smile touched my companion's face, making him look eerily like his mother. "Yeah, okay. I'll be glad to."

---

"No!" I tried to run forward again, but with one backhanded punch he knocked me against the brick wall. I coughed, spitting drops of blood onto the soft snow. "Don't hurt it!"

He didn't listen, but with a dark grin picked up the weakened, starving kitten and smashed it against the chain fence, crushing its skull. More blood spattered to the ground, covering the bodies of its siblings. There was only one left.

So cold. So, so cold. I could barely even move. He hated me, hated me with all his twisted heart and soul, treated me just like the litter of kittens I'd found and tried to care for. He could just as easily kill me, and my life would end just like those of the animals--crushed in his grip, with twisted limbs and gaping wounds. Still, it didn't matter whether I lived or died. I had to save that last one. Had to!

Before he could reach down and pick up the sole survivor, I dashed forward and grabbed it, ignoring its desperate little mews, and hurtled forward out of the alley and down the street. It didn't matter where I ended up, just that I was getting us away from him.

Suddenly, something struck me hard in the side of the head. I only just felt the trickle of blood down the side of my face when the entire world went black and my body pitched forward.

---

I lurched forward, gasping and soaked with sweat. Ritz, who had been calmly playing some handheld game beside me, set it down and gripped my shoulders, holding me steady. Doned (on the other end of the sofa), Marche, and Mewt all groggily sat up.

"What's wrong?" Ritz asked softly but firmly, her hold tightening. "What is it that scared you so badly?"

The night had gone on without much other event--after the others finished their food, we all went upstairs into the attic room we were in now and talked a little bit about Ivalice, refreshing my memory about how Mewt had initially created the world because his wishes to have his family back to normal and to end the torment of his life were so strong. Not too long after that, Doned, Marche, and Mewt had all dropped off to sleep, and I'd kept watching Ritz play her little handheld game until I fell asleep on her shoulder.

But that dream...

In a whisper, I described to Ritz and the others what the dream had been. "It was just far too real... dreams are not supposed to be that real. But it was impossible..." I couldn't bring myself to repeat the thoughts echoing in my mind. That dream was far more like a memory--and was vivid enough to be one, too. But the "me" in the dream had only been a child, perhaps four or five years old. That was impossible. I had been created at the age I was now... and the dream hadn't even taken place in Ivalice.

My chest ached where I'd been hit in the dream. So did my head. "What does this mean?" I asked softly, the hopelessness of the question being answered chasing my thoughts around in a circle.

Ritz reached around to my still-healing side, probed the place where the wound had been, and nodded slightly as I bit back a yelp. She then leaned out of the path of light from the thing called a "lamp" (it was powered by electricity, Mewt said) and pulled my slightly damp hair away from the side of my face. Her expression grew more grave as she looked at me.

"Where did you say that that person hit you with that rock?" she asked softly. Marche and Mewt edged a little closer, and Doned, unable to move from his spot, sulked because he couldn't see. Carefully, I pointed. "Because you have a very, very faint scar here that looks maybe ten years old." She turned to Marche. "I thought you said that Remedi created him out of Mewt's negative emotions."

"I did," Marche said with a frown. "Mr. Randell told me, back in the other Ivalice. But where did he get this then...? I'm all confused."

It was too much... it was just too much. "I-I... I don't understand..." I said softly. Everyone turned to me, as if they'd forgotten that I was here. "I... I just..." I struggled to put a name to the fierce, aching longing that throbbed inside me. "I want to go back home... but if I do..." My self-control shattered, and I lurched forward into Ritz's arms, sobbing.

I could just barely hear Marche's whisper. "This is all my fault."


	4. Beware of Rocks

Shadowed Heart--Part 4

see disclaimer in Part 1

"Wake up..."

I groaned. "Leave me alone!"

The voice got more insistent. "Wake up or you're gonna miss breakfast!" This time it was accompanied by a rough shake that jarred the bruise on my side against the back of the sofa. I yelped, winced, and opened one eye. Ritz, looking strict, was standing over me with her arms crossed.

"Go _away,_" I said more clearly. "I don't care about breakfast. I wanna sleep."

"Too bad," Ritz said dryly, hauling me off the sofa to land on the floor. On my bad side. Again. I glared at her and wondered why the heck she was waking me up at the crack of dawn. "We've got school and you have to come too."

Again with the 'school'. She and the others had mentioned it yesterday but never explained it. Apparently, though, it was some kind of place that none of them really liked.

"How come...?" I asked suspiciously. Ritz sighed and ran a hand through her hair, and most of my anger evaporated.

"It's not like you should come, but all kids under the age of 18 have to go. At least you'll be with the rest of us. Now come on, we're gonna be late." More gently, she pulled me downstairs, where the others were waiting.

Marche, Doned, and Mewt were all bent over breakfast, looking grim, as we came down. Marche and Doned's mom was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Ms. Radiuju...?" Ritz asked warily, as though she'd read my mind.

"Still asleep," Marche replied, sounding deadly weary. "She was up late over Dad again." He didn't meet anyone's eyes when he said "Dad". I remembered what he'd said about being fatherless, and pitied him a little. Doned was still completely oblivious. Ritz, leaving me in the hall, went over to Marche's side and gave his shoulder a little squeeze.

Most of breakfast passed in a depressing silence. For no specific reason, I remembered that all of them had gotten what they wished for when they went to Ivalice. Doned had been able to walk without crutches. Ritz's hair, naturally white, had been the hot pink she'd previously dyed it every day. Mewt had had his family. Marche had gotten friends and the strength to stand up for himself. Now that they were here, they had willingly sacrificed all that.

What had I given up? My power, my invincibility, my influence. I guess... Remedi, too. Although for me it wasn't a conscious choice, was it? But here, I still had Mewt. And the others still had each other too.

"Time to go..." Marche said finally, standing up. "See you later, Doned."

"Bye," Doned replied forlornly. We left, heading down the snow-sprinkled roads to a large, flat-looking building.

I couldn't help but stare. The building was overflowing with young humans, all of relatively the same age as us. Adults were also milling around, although there weren't as many of them as there were kids. Marche led us down a corridor towards one room in specific, where about seventeen kids roughly his age were seated at small tables, chattering to each other. Ritz immediately left to sit with a pair of blonde girls, but Marche and Mewt took me to the only adult in the room.

"Mr. Leslaie?" Marche asked hesitantly. "Mewt's cousin just came in from out of town, and we were sort of wondering if he could join this class."

The man, who looked like he was in his late twenties, nodded. "Sure thing, Marche. We've got room for one more. Introduce him."

Recognizing my cue, I stepped forward. "My name is Llednar Randell. Thanks for the help."

The man named Mr. Leslaie smiled. "Pleasure to meet you. Take a seat with your friends." With that, Marche and Mewt hauled me off to a table near the back, and we sat down together.

"A word of advice..." Marche told me in a low tone. "See those kids over there?" He pointed at a table off in a corner with three lanky boys sitting at it, laughing at some comment one of them had made. "That lot's really nasty, so don't do anything to piss them off unless you want to get totally soaked today. We're having another snowball fight." Mewt sighed and looked at the floor.

I glared at them. "I remember now. Mewt told me about those three once. Lyle, Colin, and Guinness, right?"

Marche nodded slightly. "They're bullies, so they love to pick on the littler kids. Mewt's their biggest target, but they've been after me and Ritz too. I'm afraid that they'll probably start trying to make you mad today. No offense, but you really stick out in this class." He shrugged helplessly. "It's your eyes."

"What is it about my eyes that makes everyone think they're unnerving?" I complained softly.

That made Mewt smile a little. "Nobody really has eyes like yours, no matter what world we're in. They're unique, but they're kind of intense, so they make people skittish. And a skittish bully is an irritable one."

I didn't know whether or not to take that as a compliment. "I don't really get it, but..." I just shrugged. "If they try to pick on me, they're going to regret it. I'm not afraid."

Marche sighed. "That's what worries me."

---

By the end of the day, I knew just why Mewt and the others loathed school with such a passion. It was boring. Drop dead, bone deep, agonizingly boring. Mewt had to poke me at least twenty times with the end of a pencil to make me stay awake--after the twentieth time, I lost count. It had to've been more than that.

Arithmetic and algebra, Japanese and French, the mechanics of writing, literature, history and geography, ho hum. I could've gotten through the classes (most of them, at least) in my sleep. It came as a surprise how I knew, or remembered, so much of these things. Math was easy, all the language classes too. History and geography I wasn't so sure about--this world was very, very different from Ivalice--but I caught on quickly. The whole day went by in a slow dream of disbelief. How could this all be so easy? When was the real challenge going to come?

Last period, physical education, was the only promise for something interesting. Then, as Marche had said, we were going to have a snowball fight.

He, Ritz, and Mewt explained it to me on the way outside. "See, it's like an engagement, only not. The only weapon you can use is a ball of snow. Once one team gets enough points, they'll win. They're supposed to be for fun, but... well..."

"Let me guess, those idiots always mess things up," I growled, pointing at the trio of bullies. Marche sighed and nodded. Many of the other kids were going off into separate parts of the yard and starting their own snowball fights--only the nine of us (the jerks, Ritz and her friends, Marche, Mewt, and me) were left.

"OK, divide yourselves up into teams," the teacher, Mr. Leslaie, instructed. He went off to the side and took a whistle out of his pocket, deeming to watch.

Lyle, Colin, and Guinness instantly cliqued up. "I'm not going on your wussy team again," Lyle shot at us, making sure that we could hear. One of Ritz's friends also decided to join them.

"Really," Ritz said, rolling her eyes and doing a fair imitation of the bully while she was facing the rest of us. "I'm not going on _your _wussy team--" Marche and Mewt both struggled against the impulse to laugh.

"You say something, whitey-locks?" Colin asked menacingly. Instantly, the air stilled. Ritz whipped around, her long hair whirling behind her. Its pale sheen was very, very obvious.

"That won't work anymore, moron," Ritz snarled. "I'm _proud _of having white hair."

"Sure has changed since last time," Guinness crooned in a falsetto voice. "Little prissy grandma, little prissy grandma--"

"Guinness," Mr. Leslaie called warningly from the snowbank off to the side. I smirked. Just like any judge of Ivalice, even though he made sure he was out of the lines of fire, he was always watching. "Do you want another detention?" The bully mumbled something and slunk off with his friends.

"We've got five people," Marche said uncomfortably. "One of us will have to sit out..."

Ritz's quiet friend raised one hand to volunteer. "I'll go."

"Okay, Lune, we'll call you in at halftime," Marche replied, and the girl went off by the teacher to wait. Mewt sighed--he'd wanted to skip out, it seemed.

"So, new kid," Colin yelled to us conversationally. "You taking a gamble on that freak?" I glared. He obviously meant me. A vein began to stand out in my fist as I contemplated just exactly how I was going to stampede him into the ground later.

"It's no gamble," I heard Marche reply. "Just a warning for you now... don't make Llednar mad."

"Alright, everyone, are you ready?" Mr. Leslaie called. Without waiting for a reply, he tweeted on his whistle. "Begin!"

The bullies instantly dashed forward, flinging snow at us, with Ritz's friend Katarina tagging along. Marche and Ritz, glaring, returned the barrage, with Mewt just trying to get out of the way of the attack. I hung back to watch for a while until I got the way that things were going, and added a few missiles of my own.

"Just what kind of idiot freak is that guy?" I heard Lyle yell after I'd thumped him squarely in the back with a snowball. "I can't believe he's actually related to Mewt anyway!"

"Who even says he is?" Guinness muttered. "He's prolly just some street kid foundling that his dad took in. God knows what that drunkard ever thinks these days."

Something popped inside my head--I think it may have been my self-control. "You shut up!" The offending nerdball was treated to a snowball in the mouth. Marche and Ritz leaned on each other, laughing. From the sidelines, Lune cheered. Furious, Lyle and Colin each tried to throw one back at me. The first hit a brick wall several feet away from me, and the other clipped my cheek. Their aim was horrible. I could've dodged those even if they'd been heading straight for me, which they hadn't.

Guinness spat out snow. "Ah, forget him. It's Mewt the Newt we need to go after."

"Excuse me!" The 'newt' landed a glop of snow on the bully's shoulder. Lune cheered again. Marche and Ritz both fell down laughing. I smirked again.

"Well thrown. He deserved it." I couldn't help but throw in a remark of praise along with a peace sign. Mewt smiled a little, flushed by his luck.

"I think our little scapegoat's forgotten his manners." Colin's cold, dangerous comment ended the mirth and a deadly silence settled over the schoolyard. He, Lyle, and Guinness all launched a barrage at Mewt, who was standing against the fence and had no option for escape. He shielded his face with his arms against the assault, helpless.

Both Marche and Ritz drew in a deep breath, about to start protesting, but I knew that that wouldn't cut it. Reason went out the window. I barely felt anything other than complete outrage. How DARE they!

Midway across the schoolyard, I wondered who had control of my body. I planted myself firmly in front of Mewt and knocked aside all three incoming snowballs with the ease of swatting overstuffed flies. How dare anyone even try to hurt Mewt while I was around!

"Wha--how in the world--!" Lyle yelped, a look of stupefied shock on his face. I wanted to rip his damned face _off. _How could he so much as try--!

Out of nowhere, Marche and Ritz grabbed my shoulders and upper arms, restraining me. I didn't care. I was going to take those three bastards apart for trying to hurt Mewt. I struggled to move forward, but my so-called friends' hold was firm. I couldn't take a single step.

"Wh-wh-what _is _he!" Colin stammered. The fear in his eyes was beautiful. I wanted to see more of it. "H-how could... how could anyone make that distance...?"

"Llednar--stop it!" Ritz said in between sharp breaths. She was red-faced and panting from the effort of holding me back. "You're just going to hurt yourself!"

"I don't give half a damn," I growled, almost yanking myself out of her grip. "I--am--going--to--_kill_--those--idiots!"

"Listen to me," Marche said sharply. "You're losing control of yourself! You _know _what happens when you lose control! You have to stop it! For Mewt's sake, stop it!"

Did I know? Yes. Yes. I knew all too well what would happen if I lost it again. Madness. I had barely been able to regain control while fighting Marche at the palace--I'd barely been able to think in my protective rage. Slowly, I deepened my breathing, making a conscious effort to calm the deep ferocity just waiting to rip out of my barely maintained hold. It took a while, but the tension in my body eased, and I stood still, sweat dripping from my face. I sighed. "You can let go now. I don't think I'm homicidal anymore." Warily, Marche and Ritz released me, and I turned to Mewt, who was still cowering against the fence behind me. "Are you okay?"

Shakily, he nodded, his eyes wide. His hair was dripping from the snow melting in it, and there were a few scratches on his face and hands where a snowball with too much ice had hit him. "I-I am... I think..." I sighed, relieved and exhausted. Suddenly, Mewt let out a yelp. "Look out!"

I turned, but not quickly enough. Something cracked the side of my head far too hard. There was a sharp shock of black that dulled my vision, and I knew no more.

---

I felt a dull pressure at my wrist and heard a soft, periodic beep. With a little whimper, I opened my eyes to a blinding whiteness, squeezed them shut, then cracked them open again, just a slit. My head ached, and a dull sense of confusion throbbed in the back of my mind. The last thing I could remember clearly was being hit hard in the side of the head with something.

I sat up gingerly, paused and waited for the room to stop spinning and my head to stop pounding, and looked around. I had been lying in a metal-framed bed with soft white sheets and covers, in a room that was also stunningly white. Outside, through a glass panel window, I could see a middle-aged man with dark, spiky hair speaking to a few men and women in white coats. The pressure at my wrist was from a smooth cord sticking out of it, bandaged firmly in. It trailed off to a pouch of dark blood held on a stand, which slowly, drop by drop, flowed into the opened vein in my wrist. A larger machine was over by a wall, and it had been making the soft beeping noise I'd heard earlier. Over in a pair of chairs by the door, Mewt and Ritz were sitting together, looking exhausted and sad.

"Where--" I began, and they both looked up, shocked expressions on their faces. They both ran over to me, crying out gladly.

"Llednar! You're alright!" Ritz clasped my hand, looking almost as if she would cry out of relief. "You've been asleep for three days!"

I blinked. "Three days? Huh? What happened?" This was confusing.

"See... Colin threw another snowball at you when you had your back to him. He'd put a big, sharp rock in it," Mewt began. "When I told you to look out, you started to turn around, and it hit you hard in the side of the head." He looked at the floor. "We all heard the crack, and you just--_collapsed_. You were bleeding really, really bad. Everyone was just so worried about you..." Mewt whimpered a little and threw his arms around me, refusing to speak further. I laid one hand across his back to steady him and turned to Ritz, waiting for her to continue.

"You were hurt bad enough that we had to take you here to the hospital," Ritz said quietly. I quirked one eyebrow and gave her a questioning look. "Hospitals are like--places where sick and hurt people are taken to get fixed. But anyway, you were out for such a long time. It took the doctors a while to fix the shattered part of your skull--since they don't have magic here, they have to do things by hand. It's been a while since they finished, though, and we were starting to worry that you weren't going to wake up at all." She paused, looked at me, and smiled a little. "Pull back your hair there," she instructed, indicating my left temple, where I'd gotten hit. I did. "I thought so. The cut that's still here... when the stitches are taken out, you'll have a scar shaped like an omega right here."

I smiled a little, but that remark had caused a wave of homesickness to wash over me. "Omega" had been the name of my favorite attack, and it was what I was known for back there. I just wanted to go back to Ivalice. "Where's Marche?"

Ritz looked away sadly. "He was here for a while, too... but then he got word from the doctors. His mother brought Doned in the other day. He's really, really sick. They said... they said they're not sure if he'll make it this time."

There was a long silence. My hold on Mewt grew a little tighter. I didn't want to believe that a kid as likable as Doned was really in such grave danger. "Marche must be worried sick."

"He is." Ritz shook her head. "Doned's always been sickly. Marche explained it to us a while ago... he was born with a syndrome that keeps him weak. I couldn't believe it... he'd gotten so close to walking on his own, this time..."

"You're okay, though," Mewt said thickly, still talking into my shoulder. "That should help a little, shouldn't it?"

"Maybe." I sighed, brooding a little. "I wish I could help, but I can barely move my head without getting dizzy. I'm no use like this."

The door opened with a click, and we all turned around. It was Marche, dressed in the same school uniform from three days ago. "Guys, he's just getting worse," he said softly, his eyes on the floor. "I'm really starting to worry that maybe..." He looked up suddenly, and his deep sapphire eyes gained a spark of surprise. "Llednar! You're awake!"

"Yeah..." I nodded. "I heard about Doned." A soft prickle started at the corner of my eyes, but I forced it back. I was not going to cry. "That's really rough. I'm sorry."

Marche nodded, looking as though he was biting his lip. There was a short, slightly uncomfortable pause, and then he ran to the three of us, throwing his arms around me and Ritz. "I... I just..." There was a soft spot of wetness on my shoulder--was Marche crying...? "Doned was doing so much better... it was the first time he'd ever been able to use crutches without help, but... but now..." Ritz and Mewt had both embraced their friend, steadying him and stopping his shaking. "I just feel so helpless!" With that, Marche broke down, sobbing. I laid a hand on his back sympathetically--his misery wove a deep, shattering harmony with my own.

"If only we could get Doned back to Ivalice..." I whispered, but no one heard.


	5. My Gift

Shadowed Heart--Part 5

(see disclaimer in Part 1)

I stared at the ceiling and sighed, fingering the plastic stitches that held the cut at my temple closed. This was a hopeless mess. Ritz, Mewt, and Marche were curled up in the soft chairs by the corner of the room, asleep. I couldn't hope to drop off as easily. My thoughts were still too busy chasing themselves around the same miserable circle.

A soft white heat was starting to build up in my core. It wasn't a harsh white, or the death-white that stole everything from your senses. It was sort of... a healing kind of white. It assured me that, when the time came, I wouldn't be quite so helpless as I was now.

Doned... I didn't even want to think about something bad happening to him. As likable as he was, he'd immediately passed that cute-little-innocent-kid aura off on me, back in Ivalice. I could fully recall that moment now, and did so, holding the memory like a living creature gently in my heart.

---

In the town of Cyril, I slipped through the streets as easily as a shadow, threading around crowds and weaving in and out of the busy throngs of clansmen and women on their ways to work out missions. Sighing, I yawned slightly and began to head to the outskirts of the town. The prince and queen were waiting for me.

I caught a flash of white at the edge of my vision and paused, turning. I immediately recognized Babus Swain, Mewt's attendant (more like devoted servant). No matter how the white nu mou tried to keep out of the general public's attention, having his particular coloring set him apart immediately. That and his proper, blue-and-silver clothing, clean-pressed and dignified. I almost groaned watching. He was sitting outside the pub, calmly sipping at a glass of sake. I picked my way through the crowd to his side of the street and casually pulled up another chair at his table.

"There any particular reason that you're all the way out here?" I asked casually. It still stung a little that I'd had to have him bail me out of jail once.

Babus' calm, indifferent blue eyes met my own unflinchingly. "That was the same question I was about to ask you, friend."

I shrugged. "I've been asking around with the streetears to see who's got information on that wanted kid, Marche. He's... a little more of a handful than I'd thought."

My nu mou companion rolled his eyes. "That was approximately the Judgemaster's reaction, as well as my own, before the fourth of the crystals protecting Ivalice was destroyed." He took another swig. I looked at the bottles of sake on the table near him, feeling slightly ill. He had gotten through one and most of another. This guy's toleration to alcohol was a little scary.

"You shouldn't drink like that, Babus," I commented conversationally. "You know you're going to have a nasty hangover tomorrow."

Babus shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't ever get that drunk." He downed the rest of what he had, refilled his glass, and started again.

I leaned across the table, yanked the glass of sake out of Babus' hand, and dumped the drink onto the cobblestones. "Oh, no you don't. You have had way more than enough for one day. And I asked you a question, so answer it."

If Babus was annoyed that I'd interfered with his sake binge, he didn't show it. "Well, I was investigating an interesting rumor..."

A yelp from the main square drew our attention. A pair of bangaa--a templar and a defender--and a viera--a summoner--had nailed a young kid, a streetear by the look of him, against a building wall. Being a streetear, and just a kid, probably not even a clanner yet, he couldn't defend himself against the assault. Babus and I exchanged looks and stood up, heading off towards the bullies.

I grimaced as I noted the slight stumble to Babus' walk. "Dammit, I told you already that you shouldn't have been drinking that much! Go on home. You aren't in any condition to fight with them." The nu mou looked as though he was going to protest, so I put on my stubborn face. "And no buts! You know I can take care of that lot. Don't worry--you know I won't get hurt." I crossed my arms and glared until Babus sighed and left.

To tell the truth, I would sorely miss Babus' magical support in a three-on-one fight, especially defending the kid against those bangaa. But when an ally was drunk during battle... that would just be a recipe for trouble. Babus could be badly hurt, and not only would I get the riot act from Remedi about it, but Mewt would be pretty mad too.

I crossed my arms again, now nailing the pair of bangaa and their viera friend with the same evil glare I'd been giving Babus a few moments ago. "Stop harassing the minor, folks."

The templar turned. "I don't ssee what bussinesss of yourss it iss, sson," he shot at me, giving all of his "s"es the typical bangaa hiss. "Thiss here sstreatear put my clan in danger with hiss information." The defender nodded stubbornly.

"And my clan as well," the viera summoner cried. "He sent us after a wanted fugitive, not warning us just how strong he was! He only gave us location and the bounty amount!" The kid, still leaning against the wall, was pale and trembling.

"There aren't any laws that demand that streetears give every ounce of information about fugitives, you know," I said coldly. "Even this kid probably didn't know everything, so how could he tell you?" The boy was probably about ten or eleven years old, and was clearly terrified. "Look, since there are at least two clans who went after this fugitive, then couldn't you infer that the mission out there isn't any cakewalk? If one of you had succeeded, then the other wouldn't have been able to try. I still don't see why you lot have any reason to terrorize an ordinary citizen. Now, would you mind telling me just who you went after?"

"Marche Radiuju of Clan Dragon, of course," one of the bangaa said with a snort. I rolled my eyes. I should've known.

"You should've known better than to go after him anyway." I curled my lip. "Now, if we've settled things, then you two lizards and your little bunny-rabbit friend had better get along and stop wasting my time." That was sure to spark a little conflict and get their attention away from the kid, who was still frozen against the wall.

"WHAT!" the templar cried. "How dare you call uss lizardss!"

"I'll teach you a lesson you won't soon forget," the viera snarled. A judge, perched on a chocobo, came racing down the street, which had become considerably less crowded in the past few moments. The judge blew his whistle, announcing the engagement's start.

I raced forward, sword at the ready, and knocked out the summoner with a single blow, then headed on towards the defender. He swung his sword up to meet mine, but I whispered an incantation under my breath and leapt away as a gust of harsh, poisonous air encased the bangaa where he stood and knocked him out. I smirked, then turned towards the templar.

"Jusst what are you!" he yelped, backing away.

"I'm the prince's personal biskmatar," I replied with a cold smirk, preparing to charge. "My name is Llednar." A single swift sword strike sufficed to end the engagement right there.

The streetear kid, still shaking where he'd been threatened, looked at me meekly. "Um, um, thank you..."

I shook my head. "Don't bother. They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"No," he replied, calming a hair. "You're really strong... it's impressive... thank you so much for getting rid of them. I don't know what I would've done."

I smiled a little. "I told you not to thank me. By the way, I might be needing your help sometime soon... what's your name? I need to be able to find you."

The streetear bowed. "It's Doned Radiuju. I'm Marche's little brother."

---

The memory brought a sadness-twisted smile to my face. I recalled that Babus had spent the next two days sick in bed, though he'd still tried to serve Mewt until Remedi had ordered him to rest.

Doned had never really wanted to hurt his brother, but he had wanted to stay in Ivalice. There, his health had been perfect--he could walk like any normal person, instead of being confined to a bed or a wheelchair or being dependent upon a pair of crutches.

A soft noise drew my attention to the door, which had been opened. The man I'd seen outside talking with the "doctors" had entered the room.

I immediately recognized him, although I'd last seen him wearing polished armor and astride his chocobo mount. His dark, spiky hair and beard (which was a bit longer than I'd remembered) instantly marked him as Cid Randell, Mewt's father--who I knew as Ivalice's prestigious Judgemaster.

"I guess you're still up worrying, then..." Cid said with a weak shrug. "I can't blame you. What with Doned, and everything..." He shrugged again, looking as though he'd been run ragged. "God help the souls of the weary, in these days. But... I am glad that you're alright, Llednar."

I nodded, brooding. I was starting to remember more and more about the night of my "death", and knew that Cid had been very closely involved.

Cid sat down next to me, sighed, and gently fluffed my hair. The paternal gesture came as a bit of a surprise--from what I knew, he wasn't really that kind of touchy-feely person. I looked up, meeting his eyes and carefully searching them. All that I could gather were a few hints of unbearable sadness.

"You don't trust me, do you." It was a statement, not a question. "I'm not surprised. After what happened back there..." His voice trailed off. "I still feel like it was my fault. After all, I had that antilaw specially crafted by Ezel Berbier." Ezel, a gray nu mou, had found a way to mess up Ivalice's engagement-law system by using cards called antilaws, which he had created. He was notorious for his pride and intelligence. "I just didn't know of any other way that we could convince Mewt to come with us, other than to go in fighting. When Marche and I entered Ambervale, we didn't want to fight anyone, especially you. Mewt loves you like a brother."

"I know you didn't want to. That much I can remember." And neither had Babus, although he'd been more prepared to come up against me. I'd beaten him into the ground, but refrained from spilling life-blood. He'd been a good and trustworthy ally--I still respected him for it.

Tentatively, Cid shifted his hand so that it lay on my shoulder. I understood--he was asking without words if it was alright to comfort me.

I let my body go slack, leaning against Cid's side with his arm curved around my shoulders. I didn't really care who saw what right now--I just needed somebody to confide in. The pressure of the white force inside me made the space behind my eyes prickle and burn, causing the tears I'd tried to hold back to slip silently down my face.

Why couldn't it have been this way back in Ivalice? Why hadn't I had my own mother's support during the darkest hours of my life? Why had I always been alone?

It would never be like that again. I would make sure of it.

Taking a ragged breath, I pushed away from Cid and met his eyes. "Can I see Doned?"

Cid studied my face, getting a concerned expression. "I'm not sure if they'll even let you get up."

I scowled. "It's okay." I held up my right arm. "They stopped giving me blood. I can move." It was true--the doctors had removed the cord in my wrist, and the dizziness I'd felt earlier had diminished a lot. I already knew it was enough for me to walk without feeling nauseous.

"Alright, then. But we'd best be quick." Cid stood up, giving me room to get up myself. "Do you... have something in mind?"

I shook my head. "No, it's just sort of a feeling. I just know that I have to see him." A soft sound from the corner of the room made both of us turn. Marche had awoken and was now looking at us, pushing his bangs out of his face.

"Take me with you." We stared. "He's my own Goddamn brother! Let--me--come--" The bangs fluffed back down, and I had the feeling that he was hiding behind them this time. Tears began to trace down his face. "I just want to be with my brother, in case--in case--"

"Let's take him," I told Cid, interrupting. Marche didn't want to say those words any more than I wanted to hear them--it wasn't a bad idea to stop him, for once.

So we nearly tiptoed out of the room and headed down the corridors of the hospital towards Doned's room, avoiding the doctors who were still roaming around the halls. Cid opened the door for us and turned on the light, closing it again once we were all inside.

Doned lay on a metal-framed, white-sheeted bed much like the one in my room. There was a cord in each of his wrists, one dripping blood into his system; the other, some clear fluid that may have been medicine. Marche's brother looked twice as frail and delicate as he usually did--he was so pale that he was nearly white, and his breath rasped in his throat, hitching a little even in sleep.

"Doned..." Marche sounded as though he was going to start crying again. On an impulse, I gripped his shoulder, and he looked up at me, the deep woe in his eyes as sharp and cutting as any sword.

I reached over and took Doned's hand, searching my heart for what I was supposed to do now. I knew, beyond any vestige of doubt, that there was something that I could do to keep him alive.

The white fire building within my core had not reached its full output, but I knew that I had more than enough. Carefully, I imagined a channel opening between my own body and Doned's, letting that whiteness spill through. Immediately, a sharp ache hit my heart. The pounding at the side of my skull grew to be unbearable, and tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Still, I could not stop. Doned's own white fire, tinted gray by his illness, was starting to build again, becoming purer as it returned to him. Even though my own was draining steadily and the pain continued to get worse, I continued to pour that healing white through the connection between us. I was dimly aware that my hands, glowing with the pure energy, felt like they were on fire.

Finally, it was done. Doned's body had been completely filled with as much of the white as it could hold. My own lack of whatever it was made my head feel light and my body unsteady, but in my core there was the proud, lingering sensation of a job well done.

Marche cried out as Doned began to stir weakly, jostling past me to take his brother's hand. The faintness at my temples swelled with a roar, and everything suddenly went black.

---

"...but it can't be. Not after all this time."

"Cid, you have to face the facts. This kid even has the same birthmarks. How could it not be him? I would think that you'd be happy."

"Remedi and I swore to each other once Mewt was born that we wouldn't go clutching at loose strings ever again. We both knew how much it hurt to be wrong. I've put it all behind me."

"That's not all, you know! I'm pretty sure that this is the same prodigy from that high school, too. Same hair, same eyes--you couldn't forget those eyes. Playing the violin like a master, at his age! And starving. This is the same boy, I am sure of it."

"Right, so you're telling me that he not only survived being kidnapped at a week old, he grew into a genius. Like Mewt. Stop being so optimistic. Listen, I know who this child is. Although he is like a brother to Mewt, and a son to me, he is not--"

"Stop being a fool! You've truly discarded the possibility of hope! I can't believe this!"

"Well, at least there are two good things about being such a pessimist. Either I'm always right or I'm pleasantly surprised."

---

"Llednar? Oh, God... please, don't let it be true..."

That voice. That clearly anguished voice... it awoke something inside of me. My mind struggled through the layers of darkness, searching for whoever was calling.

"Please... Llednar, if you can hear me, open your eyes! Please!"

More awareness. Slowly, I did as I was told. The brightness of the light was blinding for a few moments, but everything eventually blurred into color and took shape, becoming clearer with each passing second that I could keep my eyes open.

Ritz was standing over me, looking desperate. Behind her were Marche and Doned, and also Lune, the quiet girl from school. Mewt was clinging to his father in a corner, crying.

"What... what happened...?" My voice was barely more than a whisper, and sounded very hoarse. Out of nowhere, Lune burst into tears. With a little smile of relief, Marche escorted her out of the room so that she could get control of herself.

Ritz sat down beside me and ran a hand through her hair. "You gave us all a real scare."

It felt like there was a big wad of cotton fluff in my head, subduing my emotions and suppressing my memory. "Huh?" I asked brilliantly.

Doned came forward, gripping a short metal cane in one hand to lean on. "You saved me. Don't you remember?" With a shock, I realized that he was _standing on his own, without the support of crutches OR a wheelchair! _

"How--how did--how did you--?" was all I could manage.

Doned's smile, although weak and shaky, had a good deal of mischief in it. "The doctors say that they don't understand it. They've never seen me better, and I only have to use this--" he indicated the cane "--because I'm still unsteady from my medication. Whatever you did to me, it's given me strength I never knew I had. Maybe soon I'll be able to walk on my own, even though I'll probably limp all my life. And I'll only have to go back to crutches when it gets really, really bad."

Marche, who had come back in while his brother was talking, took up the conversation as though on cue. "Even though whatever you did saved Doned, it almost killed you. Right afterward, you collapsed... you'd gone into cardiac arrest." I looked at him questioningly.

"He means your heart stopped," Ritz broke in, reaching over to gently ruffle my hair. "Which is why you probably feel really awful right about now."

"It's not--painful, really," I replied. "I'm just so tired... and I can't move."

"Yeah. Sure." Ritz smiled and leaned over, planting a sisterly kiss on my forehead. "Everything will be fine. Even the doctors say so." I could tell that I was turning bright red. She'd _kissed _me! "So just go back to sleep for a while, if that's what your body is telling you. Go on ahead and loaf around. S'not like any of us will blame you."

"Yes, _Mother,_" I replied, closing my eyes and hoping that that uncomfortable feeling I had would just go away. This was Ritz--I'd known her for a while, so why was I suddenly getting so shy? I didn't understand it, so I didn't like it.

If nothing else, I could sleep for a long time. I could sleep _forever_. I had my friends, and Doned was going to be okay. Life, as I knew it, was pretty good.

If I had but known.


	6. Rumors, Tomes, and Trials

Shadowed Heart--Part 6

See disclaimer in Part 1

For about the next week or so (I wasn't really keeping track) all I did was eat, sleep, and sometimes talk to my friends, who were still hanging around waiting for me to get well enough to get out of the hospital. Most of the time, anyway, I just slept, trying to escape from the strange white world I had come into, to get back to Ivalice in my dreams.

Only, I never dreamed about Ivalice. Instead, those strange would-be memories continued to plague me. The cruel man, a strange woman with a high-pitched voice, a dirty room packed with children, various back alleys--they would never leave me alone once I closed my eyes. Dreams of a cat--apparently, the kitten "I" had saved--at my side, of its death one cold winter, of the long months of mourning and loneliness that followed. Of being teased and tortured, set apart by my eyes, by the dark, shadowed pall that seems to have settled over me during my life. Of starving slowly, coming too close to death for comfort time and time again.

Who was I? Which of my memories were real? I didn't know anymore.

---

I woke up to see that Lune had parked herself in a nearby chair, and was fiddling with a vase of flowers on a nearby table. After several days of freaking out whenever I realized I'd fallen asleep and the people in the room had left or new people had entered, I didn't even blink. I'd gotten used to things changing while I'd napped.

"Hi." My voice sounded like crap. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Hi, Lune."

"Hi," she replied shyly, looking up at me. "They took your stitches out."

I put a finger to my temple, probing my cut. Sure enough, there were no rough stitches left, just a smooth scab in the shape of an omega. "How long was I out this time?"

Lune shrugged. "I don't know. My parents have been taking me home all the time, so I haven't gotten to stay as much as I'd like. It's been a couple of days since I've seen you last."

"Oh." I shifted slightly and sat up (I'd regained control of my upper body again, but I still couldn't stand or walk). "Hey, Lune? You mind if I ask you something?"

She shook her head. "What about?"

I shrugged. "Well... I heard something a little while ago while I was here, and I got curious." I wasn't going to mention that what I thought I'd heard, I'd heard in a dream. "About that prodigy everyone keeps talking about, in your school... the violinist?"

Lune broke out in a big smile. "I'm not surprised that you're curious. What I do know, I'll tell you, but most of it was heard from friends of friends, if you know what I mean. The gossip chain."

I shrugged. I just wanted to know.

"Well, there was this kid who got put into our high school a couple of years early. There were rumors that he was being shifted between foster families and such, that he lived at an orphanage, but no one could prove them. He was a smart kid--I didn't have him in any classes, but my friends who'd seen him said he was really smart. But it was scary, how well he could play the violin. If he'd heard a song somewhere, say, like on the radio or at a concert, he could play it back with almost no mistakes by ear. Even if he'd just heard it once, or if the part wasn't in violin at all. I went to one of his concerts once--they were all school-sponsored, but he was the only one who ever played--and it just knocked me off my feet, how good he was. It's... hard to describe... but I'd say he was about thirteen or twelve maybe, and he was playing professionally. I wish you could've seen him, but... a little before you came into town, he disappeared completely. No one knows where he went." Lune sighed. "I wish you could've met him. I just have the feeling that you would understand everything he stood for better than any of us, and I don't know why."

"Oh," I replied, thinking everything over. Was it possible...? Did what I'd been considering even have one slim chance of being real? "Thanks."

Lune nodded and went back to fidgeting with the flowers, and I dropped off to sleep again.

---

Days continued to pass, and my condition gradually improved. I needed to sleep less often, and the life-support machines in my room were taken out, as the doctors decided that I wasn't going to have another sudden heart attack like the one I'd "had" in Doned's room. Lune stopped showing up, evidently because her parents were sick of her playing "nurse" to someone who was getting better, and Marche and Doned started going home at the point-blank insistence from their mother that they were going to go back to school. Ritz, Mewt, and Cid still hung around, and I found myself enjoying the fact that I had company, since I'd started to remember how drastically different things were in Ivalice.

Although I didn't realize it for a while, I also felt free. For once in my life I wasn't constantly striving to please my eternally demanding "mother", Remedi. No matter how good I was at my job, or what I did, I'd found that Remedi was never happy with me--always barking at me for something or other. It was always I'd neglected to do this, or I'd forgotten that, or why wasn't everything I did as good as that, or why was I putting new ideas into Mewt's head when it was his mother who obviously knew what was best for him. There were no unreasonable requests out here--if anything, the requests I did get were few and far between, and usually made by the doctors. The lack of stress in my life was very, very nice.

But it wasn't really a lack of stress if you considered how weird I always got when Ritz was around. I caught myself constantly blushing at perfectly normal comments that she made, or thinking that for a girl she really didn't look half bad. It was as though certain parts of my body other than my brain were starting to take control when she was present. I got nervous talking to her, felt unbelievably stupid compared to her obvious intelligence, and constantly berated myself on my lack of control. Girls! What was it about them that made them so strange yet similar at the same time? And why was it that Ritz made me feel this way! I would end up going insane from the torture. Could she tell the way I was feeling? Had she not even noticed? Did I even have half a chance with her?

Urgh. Stupid crushes.

---

I sat up, giving up on sleep for the time being. I was bored. Bored, bored, bored! There was nothing to do here except stare at the walls--and even _those _were plain white. If I didn't get out of this stupid place, I was going to go insane. Cid, Mewt, and Ritz were all off doing other things, apparently much more important things than keeping me company. I almost wanted to try walking again, but knew that I shouldn't--the last time I'd attempted to get back up on my feet, my legs had crumpled, sending me sprawling. My muscles were still far too weak to support my own weight.

I curled up, brooding. I felt like some kind of prisoner, trapped in this cell of a hospital room. My few memories of Ivalice were starting to fade, being destroyed by this dull white chamber and its harsh reality. Had I really been able to wield my blessed knightsword SaveTheQueen? Was I really once the most powerful dark mage in Bervenia? I was beginning to lose that part of myself. The sharp longing of homesickness throbbed through my body, as though my heart was being dragged over broken glass. With the pain came the fear, as always. Even if I was able to go home--I was dead there, wasn't I? The queen had sent me here, where I could begin life with a fresh body, as Doned had in Ivalice. Would I just become a bodiless spirit again?

The door creaked open, letting Ritz in. Wonderful. She looked angry--even better. Although Ritz didn't lash out at others often, she did it enough to make me wary of her. Her shoulders were shaking; a sure sign of danger. And she was--crying!

"Why the hell do people have to be so damn stupid!" she wailed, slamming a fist into the wall as she stormed over to the chair in the corner, sitting down and sulking; crying into her hands. All I could do was sit and blink, trying to get over the fact that Ritz--the toughest person I'd ever known--was dissolving into tears before me.

"Umm... Ritz... what happened?" I finally asked, still intimidated. "You. Erm. You don't look so good..." Oh, yeah. Brilliant conversation starter--state the obvious. Really lame way to try and rack up points with the girl you like.

Ritz wheeled around and glared holes into the wall, straddling the chair and shielding her face from my glance. "Not that it's any of your business, but... it's that damn Lyle. He walks up to me while I'm out on the street after getting a new pair of batteries for my Game Boy, and starts making cracks about your condition. He _knows _I can't stand it when people make fun of my friends, especially those who can't defend themselves. And then he goes on to tell me just how ugly I am, as if I don't already know that because of my stupid hair nobody will ever truly love me. I can't stand that little weasel! He's lucky that he just got off with a broken nose, cause next time..." Ritz made a winding-up motion with her left arm, miming punching the wall (no doubt she was imagining Lyle's moniker upon it).

I couldn't help it; I was startled into speech. "B-but--but that's not true!" I sputtered. Ritz peeked over her shoulder, giving me a questioning look. I looked down at the sheets, playing with them idly. I could feel my face beginning to glow bright red. "You aren't--you aren't ugly at all. Your hair, it's... it's beautiful. It makes you look pure, and ethereal, and above the rest of the world... like, like an angel." I felt myself turning even redder. That had sounded so _dumb! _I was probably going to bear part of the brunt of the irritation she was saving for Lyle, or even worse--she'd laugh at me. Crap... why hadn't I just kept my big, fat mouth shut?

But Ritz didn't seem angry. She just stared at me strangely for a few minutes, and smiled, getting up and scrubbing her face with the back of her hand. "That makes two people who've told me that--you and Marche, both. So I guess it wasn't just a fluke." (Author's Note: That comment refers to the ficlet "White as Snow", a personal favorite of mine--I loved the ideas in it.) She sat down next to me, fluffed my hair, and pulled me close to her, curling her body around mine from behind.

Ritz was just that much taller than me that I fit perfectly into the curve of her body. If possible, I was blushing more furiously than ever--the feel of my back pressed up against her belly had done that enough. This was a little too intimate for me to be able to stand, and yet I was frozen in her arms, feeling the race of the pulse through my body as my heartbeat quickened.

"I know that you haven't had it very easy either, back in Ivalice." I closed my eyes and tried just to listen to her voice, to forget that she was literally draped over me. "So, from now on... I want you to consider me your big sister, okay?"

Disappointment flooded through my body, effectively curing my blush. That was _it? _That was all we were going to be--friends, siblings maybe? When it had seemed that our relationship could have gotten a lot more serious?

But what chance had I had anyway, when her heart so obviously belonged to another?

I revised my vision of this girl called Ritz in my mind. The traits that had made her so attractive now made her endearing; and the personality that I'd found to be so intriguing became the well-known face of a friend. Even though it was second-best, I'd settle for what I had--I was lucky to have it.

"Kay." Shameless now, I snuggled closer. Things would turn out alright.

---

I slipped my jacket on and looked back into the room I shared with Mewt, impatient. "Come on! Let's go already!"

Mewt looked up and made a face, strands of his curly hair falling into his eyes. "Just a second, okay?" he complained, dragging a battered bookbag from the closet. He unzipped it, looked relieved as he saw that whatever he had was safe, and strapped the bag on after sealing it again. "Okay, I'm ready to go."

"What's that for?" I asked, mystified. "We're just going out to dinner with the others. Jeez. It's not an overnight trip or anything."

"Oh, you'll see when we get there," Mewt replied innocently. I rolled my eyes. He was planning something, and obviously he didn't want me in on it. Nice. "If I told you, it'd spoil the surprise."

It had been a few months since I'd finally gotten out of the hospital, and I'd more or less resigned myself to being stuck in Mewt's version of Ivalice. I got decent grades in school, and mostly refrained from getting into fist fights with Lyle's group of bullies. (Hey. I did say "mostly". Habits are hard to break. ) I started to think of Mewt and the others as a sort of "family" to replace the one I'd never had back in Ivalice. Ritz and Mewt were as good as a brother and sister, and even Marche was getting to be a good friend. But I still longed for the kind of risky adventure that only my home could offer.

A knock at the door signaled us that Ritz had arrived. Cid was going to be driving us to the restaraunt that Mewt had picked, even though he couldn't come because he had his job to take care of. Marche and Doned lived within walking distance of the place, so they would go on foot.

About two seconds later, Ritz was charging into the room, looking anxious. "Ohhh, God! Is my hair okay! My dress! My makeup!"

I couldn't help but stare. She was clad in a slinky cloud-blue dress with black ankle boots that had _heels _(horror of horrors!). There was an extra touch of slick pink to her lips (Ritz? Using _lipstick? _The wonders never cease) and her hair slowly gradated from pure white at its roots to pale pink at the tips.

"You look great," I said sincerely. "Marche will never know what hit him." I, however, knew exactly who and what was going to hit me next, and as expected, I was treated with a punch in the face. "I meant that as a compliment!" I whined, knowing that Ritz would just ignore me.

"Why are you acting so girly?" Mewt wanted to know. "It's not like this is a date. We're just going out to dinner."

Ritz glared and brandished her fist at him. "Well, that doesn't mean that I can't look nice."

I sneezed, shaking my head to clear it. "What is that smell?"

Mewt sniffed delicately. "Amaranth...? Lily...? Ritz, you aren't wearing PERFUME, are you!"

A slight flush rose to the girl's cheeks. "And what if I am?"

I sneezed again, starting to feel ill. Mewt ushered me into the hall and commented over his shoulder, "I think Llednar's allergic to something in whatever you're using. That's what."

"What's perfume?" I asked, once again feeling a bit dim. "And what's allergic?"

"Oh, put a sock in it, it's time to go," Ritz grumbled. "Come on, Llednar-chan..."

"But I want to know what perfume is! And allergic!"

Mewt grabbed me by the sleeve and started to drag me downstairs. "Come on. Marche and Doned are waiting for us. We're going to be late, you know!"

Sighing, Ritz held up a small glass cylinder capped with some silver metal. Inside was a slightly tinted clear fluid, which sloshed as she shook it. "This is perfume. Girls will mist it on their bodies at points where there's a strong pulse, like this..." Exposing one wrist, she pressed down on the silver cap slightly, and a fine cloud of the liquid was expelled from the container, mostly gathering at her wrist. "See?"

I sneezed again and ducked down the stairs. Mewt followed me, calling back to Ritz, "It _is _a little bit strong, you know."

Cid was waiting for us downstairs with the car. "Come on in, kids. We've only got five minutes." Dutifully, the three of us piled inside. After a few moments of silence, I couldn't hold my tongue any longer.

"Hey, Cid? What's allergic?"

Cid laughed. "You mean, about Ritz's perfume? It is awfully strong. I noticed that you've been sneezing a lot. We should get you allergy-tested one of these days..."

"Okay. What's allergic?"

---

I sighed and leaned back, waiting for one of the waitresses to come back around. Everyone else was finishing their food, but I was still hungry. As I saw one pass, I started to speak, but Ritz punched me gently in the shoulder. "Hey, stuff it. Whatever Mewt's brought is probably more important than getting you a sixteenth helping of ramen."

"What?" I replied with mock surprise. "But _nothing's _more important than that!"

Mewt laughed. "Actually, I think this might be." He pulled up the old bookbag and unzipped it, pulling out a large book with heavy brass covers, intricately designed with separate layers of wide concentric rings, leading to a blue jewel at the very center.

It got so quiet at our booth that you could've heard a dust mote hit the floor. "But... that's..." Marche finally managed to squeak after about five minutes.

"The Gran Grimoire. Yes, it is." Mewt nodded gravely. "I brought it here for a reason... it's because..." He stopped short, looking at me strangely. "Llednar, what's that...?"

"What?" I asked, perplexed. Mewt pointed straight to my heart. I looked down.

There was a soft blue glow radiating from underneath the fabric of my shirt. I pulled at the fine silver chain around my neck until the pendant came free, and let the slender oval jewel hang outside my shirt. It was glowing with a repeated pulse, feeling almost like a heartbeat.

"I've never seen you wearing that before," Mewt whispered.

I shrugged, mystified. "I've had it for as long as I can remember," I said. "I never take it off, and I usually have it under whatever else I'm wearing. Why?"

"It's... resonating," Doned said in an almost awed voice. "With the stone on the book. It's resonating." We all looked at him, then at the Gran Grimoire. Sure enough, the jewel on its cover was pulsing along with the stone on my pendant.

"Your wish..." Mewt said quietly. "You have a very strong wish... don't you?"

"Me?" He nodded. I looked at the floor. "I... I want... I want to go home..." My breath hitched, and I tried to fight the prickle of tears behind my eyes. I was _not _going to shame myself by crying like a little baby.

"It's okay..." someone said, putting their hand on my shoulder. I didn't look up. I had to get control of myself first.

"Well, anyway..." Mewt said awkwardly. "Mama told me something very important, when we said goodbye to each other in Ivalice. We can go back for short periods of time, if we really want to."

We all stared at him.

"She said that we can only come back for a few days, unless something really special happens. But... we can't just want to go back for the sake of going back. We have to go back for something, or technically for someone."

"How do we do it?" Marche asked breathlessly.

"When we're alone, each person who wants to go will put their hand on the book, and concentrate on the person from Ivalice you miss the most. It took a wish to originally create that world, and it will take a wish to go back to it. A wish... and love."

"So that's why you asked us all here," Ritz said softly. "So that we can all go back together... I can't deny the fact that I want to. I can't believe that I'm actually getting the chance to see Shara again..."

Mewt looked at me strangely. "Llednar, you're shaking..."

I was. "It's... nothing..."

"Uh huh. Right." He gave me a look. "And the sky is green. What's wrong?"

I curled into a ball. "I... just..." I paused. "I'm scared," I said in a little voice that I could barely hear myself.

---

We were finally back in Mewt's room (funny how I still thought of it as his room, even though we shared it) with the book, ready to make our way to the other world. Carefully, Mewt took the Gran Grimoire out of the bookbag and laid it on the floor, opening it to a page in the center.

"Think of the person you miss the most," he reminded us, putting one hand on the page and closing his eyes. Doned did the same, then Ritz. Marche and I looked at each other. A concern lit his eyes to match the fear that was probably in mine.

"It's going to be okay," he said softly. "We'll take care of you." He touched the page of the book and fell into his own trance.

I reached out as well, but stopped. Who did I miss the most?

Babus? Definitely not. I would be too ashamed to see him, after everything that had happened at the Ambervale. But who else did I actually know? All the people I would want to see were right here with me.

The memory hit me like a brick to the head. _Mother. _Mother--the queen. My heart ached to please her still, and mourned at my inability to do so. Mother. Mother. Did I miss her? Of course I did. But still...

---

"Oh, crap!"

The bells chimed loudly through the palace, ten times. I'd overslept--_again. _I was going to catch it this time...

Still struggling with the ties on my vest, I raced down the hall, my breath exploding in my chest. The quiet babble of the breakfasting court reached my ears. I had to hurry, especially if the ceremonies were already done, as it seemed. Maybe, if I was quiet enough... if I was fast enough...

I cracked the door open, and everything fell silent. Oh, crap. Oh crap oh crap oh crap.

Remedi stood up, glaring at me. My soul wilted at her gaze, but some part of me still dared to hope. With a polite "excuse me" to the crowds, she strode over to me, grabbing my arm so hard I couldn't bite back a yelp, and dragged me off.

I already knew that I'd probably be walking away from this little encounter with bruises starting where she'd grabbed me, and most likely too dizzy to stand up if she hit me as hard as she had last time. I couldn't help the fact that I was a heavy sleeper, but Remedi seemed to think I could. So every time I overslept and walked in to breakfast late, I was punished. Severely.

I knew that protesting that I couldn't work after the things that she did wouldn't do anything at all, so I kept my mouth shut. I could just hope that it would be over quickly.

---

I shook off the memory, but I couldn't help but shudder. Things had gone on like that for a long, long time. Eventually, Babus realized what was going on and spoke to Remedi for my sake, but it hadn't helped much in the psychological-abuse department.

Still... maybe this time things would be different this time. Maybe...

I laid my hand on the book with everyone else, closed my eyes, and thought of my mother, in her _kind _moments, the way she was with Mewt and no one else.

There was a heavy pulse through my body.

And everything went black.


	7. Motherland

Shadowed Heart--Part 7

See disclaimer in Part 1

Author's Note: Thank all of you so much for sticking with my humble story so far. As I have several other fanfictions I'm working on, including an FFTA one-shot which is still in the works, the final chapter in a Golden Sun pentology, two massive Lunar stories, and a Lunar one-shot which has been very neglected, I can't always be working on this even though it's been my main focus lately. However, knowing that the story has a fan base, however tiny, keeps me going.

Chapter seven brings the first part of the story to a close, or to put it in DBZ terms, the first "saga". I've still got three major "sagas" to go, as well as the closing story, which I think many people will find to be very, very interesting. But I can't tell too much about that now can I? Please don't get too irritable that I'm "dangling the carrot in front of your noses"--if a rabid fan kills me, then the story won't go on, now will it?

Okay, I promised a friend that I was going to do this, so I'll take care of it now--my recommendations for other FFTA fanfics. First of all, there's "White as Snow", which is a very good one-shot that basically concerns the Marche/Ritz pairup. If you haven't read it yet, read it ASAP--I've made a few oblique references to its plot and consider it to be one of the best stories I've read so far on ff-net! Also, there's "A Return to the Homeland, Sort Of", which I also consider to be a very good story that I'm rabidly waiting for more of. It hints to the original FFT a whole lot, but I don't find it to be too much of a problem even though I've never played FFT (sob). Thirdly, there's "Stray Ends", which is also very very good but not, I'm afraid, for Llednar-kun's fans, as he's made to look completely evil in the story (so untrue!). Still, the quality of the writing is good enough for it to have made my "favorites" list, and the plot is interesting enough, even though I'm peeved that my oniichan is made to be the villain. Last and DEFINITELY not least, there's Kaelle's story, "Surrender", which is SOOOOOOO good and a total MUST-READ for any members of FMTHDS (Fans of Mewt's Totally Hot Dark Side, a.k.a. the Llednar fan club). If you have any trouble finding these stories on the FFT/FFTA page, you can always look at my author's page to find them. (Note as of update: None of these are on my faves list anymore. RttH,SO is still under FFT.)

Lastly (as this is getting to be LO-ONG! OO;;;), those of you who've watched .hack/sign may have noticed some similarities between Tsukasa-chan and Llednar-kun in my writing. So have I. I don't know why I did it, but I've added the same elements that made Tsukasa's life so miserable (abusive "father", controlling mother figure who insists that he's something he's not, periodic flashbacks to memory fragments) to Llednar's. I must :really: be obsessed...

Okay, I'll stop blabbering on and let you lot read now. Peace to the world, and BRING THE NOISE!

---

I opened my eyes slowly, feeling as though I'd just been caught in a chocobo stampede. Groaning, I sat up. "Did anybody get the license plate?"

Marche, Ritz, Mewt, and Doned were all lying unconscious on the ground, although they were starting to show signs of coming out of it too. I looked around. We were in a room with walls made of wooden planks, as were the ceiling and floor. Marche was wearing his soldier's uniform of a blue shirt, red bandanna, and leather shorts and boots, with silver plates strapped to his shoulders, elbows, and knees. Ritz was dressed in a frilly, slightly sheer light pink dress with heavy armor over it. Mewt was in his prince's clothes, and Doned wore the attire of an apprenticed thief. Each of them was armed.

As for myself, I was overjoyed to find that my attire was that which I'd always worn while in Ivalice--thin clothes with deceptively light armor beneath. And even better--my faithful blade SaveTheQueen was sheathed at my side.

"Ouch," Marche gasped, sounding as though all the air had been forced from his lungs. He sat up, looked around, and sighed in relief. "I guess we made it."

"Yeah..." I replied. "Where are we?"

"I think... I think we're in the Prancing Chocobo! In Cyril!" Marche looked around excitedly. "Yeah, this is definitely it! We did it! We're back! Hey! Hey!"

"Will you do me a favor and be a little less cheerful and loud," Ritz complained, sitting up and shaking out her long, white hair, which was still tinted pink at the tips. "That hurt. And you're hurting my ears."

"Sorry."

Doned whimpered and sat up, looking dizzy. Mewt followed him a few moments later. We reported to them where we thought we were, and they agreed. We got up (more or less) and headed out of the room.

Marche was ecstatic. "Oh, man, this is my clan's hangout! Everybody will most likely be here waiting for us! They're gonna be SO surprised!"

Ritz grabbed him by the shoulders, smiling a little. "Down, boy! Take deep breaths! Don't knock yourself out again by hyperventilating. It will be very embarrassing."

He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, guys. I just can't believe that I've gotten the chance to see my friends again!"

Mewt and I exchanged looks and sighed. A vivid red eye tattoo had formed on Mewt's forehead when we passed through the barrier between worlds; it was the mark of Ivalice's royalty, only branded upon the ruling family. Alchemists, sages, and other special mages bore the symbol upon their armor and robes, linking them to the Bervenian monarchy. I myself had the eye tattooed in black at the nape of my neck, something of which I wasn't really that proud. As it was both small and in black, it signified the fact that I was technically a royal servant.

"Let's go," Doned said with a wry smile. "I'm excited too. I'm gonna get to see Nono again!"

We crept through the halls of the inn to the tavern, keeping as silent as we could--there was an unspoken agreement between us that our return was to be a surprise that we wouldn't be belting out before we even showed ourselves. Marche snuck forward into the room, then returned a moment later, looking gleeful.

"They're all there," he reported with barely contained enthusiasm. "Let's just jump on out, everyone!"

"All?" Ritz asked, raising one eyebrow. She looked as though she was struggling to keep a lid on her own excitement. "All as in your clan, or all as in--"

"Everyone," Marche interrupted. "Shara and Ezel and Babus and Nono and everyone. All the people who've helped us are there! Let's go!" He took Ritz by the arm and bounced into the room, followed by Doned and Mewt. I started to go after them, but stopped. Since none of the people they'd worked with and I were on friendly terms, a fight would only ensue if I showed myself. A deep sadness settled over my heart, and I stepped back into the shelter of the hall, where I could watch without being seen.

Gathered in the common room were two dark-furred moogles, three viera--two snipers and an assassin, two bangaa, Babus, a human blue mage, and a gray nu mou that I didn't recognize. At Marche's cheerful, "Hey everybody!" they all turned as one, gaped, and began shouting enthusiastically.

"Montblanc!" Marche cried, embracing the elder of the two moogles, who had tan fur and was dressed in a green tunic and pale brown leggings.

"Nono!" Doned yelped, glomping the younger moogle, who had dark fur the color of chocolate and was clad in a green gadgeteer's uniform.

"Shara!" Ritz made a beeline for one of the snipers, a busty, short-haired viera teenager in a cropped shirt and slit skirt.

Wordlessly, Mewt sailed straight into Babus' arms and promptly broke down into tears.

After several hugs were exchanged as well as greetings, everyone started asking at once how my friends had come back. Constantly interrupting each other, Marche and the others related the story of Remedi's final blessing upon Mewt. There was a whole lot of laughing and crying and still more hugging and talking over one another and the sense of being one big giant family. I felt like more of an outsider than ever, and I longed with every fiber of my being to run out and join them, but I knew better. I really was an outsider. Why had I ever wanted to come back here? I should've just stayed with Cid.

Unfortunately for me, that gray nu mou spotted me watching longingly from behind the door. "Excuse me... boy!" I ducked behind the door a little more, hoping that he'd decide to go back to celebrating. Naturally, he didn't.

A few moments later, Marche came around back and knelt down next to me. "Why aren't you coming out with the rest of us?" he asked quietly. "I didn't even notice that you weren't there until Ezel pointed you out back here. Is something wrong?"

"Yes, something is wrong," I said thickly, my voice starting to contort. "You're all so _happy._ Things could never be that way if I showed my face. You know that most everyone out there is someone I've fought against, someone who probably hates me? That these are more of the people who are frightened of me, because I'm so different? Oh, not to mention--they think I'm dead." I hid my face, curling up into a ball. "I should've just stayed on the other side. There's no place for me here anymore."

There was a long pause, and Marche put his hand on my shoulder. "Well, I'm not happy when you're so upset," he told me. "You're my friend. It makes me feel bad, when I know that you're miserable back here and not having fun with the rest of us. There are people out here who don't even know you yet, and I'm sure that you could make a good start. And as for the people who fought you--I know that Babus, at the very least, would want to patch things up with you."

I laughed, although it sounded twisted and forced. "Yeah, right. Babus, wanting to make things up with me? I almost _killed _him. I beat him within a few inches of his _life. _He would not want to see my face again. He's prob'ly glad that I'm 'dead'."

"You could've killed him, but you didn't," Marche said patiently. "I think that says a lot for you. And actually, he feels awful about what happened to you. We were just talking about it. That was part of what made me realize that you were still back here. Now, come on. You'll relieve a lot of guilty consciences by coming out, including your own. And Ezel wants to meet you. Now, come on. No more nonsense out of you today, Llednar." He hauled me upright, but I dug my heels into the ground and shook my head. "They're just going to get curious anyway! Come on... please?"

I shook my head and leaned against the wall. "No... maybe later. I just... I don't think it would be a good time, right now."

Marche sighed and left, shaking his head. "There wasn't anything I could say to coax him out," he reported to someone nearby. "I'm sorry. He says now probably wouldn't be a good time. I'm getting kinda worried about him... he seems so sad..."

I curled up and tried my hardest not to cry.

"Now where have I seen your face before?" someone asked. I looked up, startled. The gray nu mou I'd seen with the others had come over to sit by me. He'd probably been the one who'd asked Marche to get me out with the others. He looked like an alchemist, but his robes were dyed a deep hermetic's violet, and there were several law and antilaw card frames in his belt, as well as bits and pieces of amber. "Not attached to Marche's clan, I'm sure. At the palace...?"

"You're Ezel," I whispered breathlessly. "Ezel Berbier. _THE _Ezel Berbier. You invented the antilaw... didn't you?"

Ezel laughed. "So, I've gotten to be that infamous? Yes, my boy, I'm 'the' Ezel. But where have I seen you before? You look so familiar, but I can't put my finger on it..."

I made a face. "You're probably thinking about Mewt. People say that we look a lot alike."

"Who are you, then?" Ezel asked, cocking his head to one side. "I'm almost certain that I've seen or heard of you before."

I shrugged, starting to feel a little uncomfortable. "Well, my name is Llednar Twem... I guess you could say that I'm one of Mewt's guardians. Was," I corrected myself hastily. "I'm a bit between jobs right now." If Mewt went back to the palace, there was no way that I'd be able to follow him. Remedi wouldn't stand for it.

Ezel looked at me thoughtfully. There was a long pause before he next spoke. "So, I'm guessing that you've made a lot of enemies around here, much like our Mr. Swain, and so now you're a little on the shy side about presenting yourself?" I nodded. That was _exactly _it. "Well, I don't think you need to worry. Marche's clan is a very forgiving bunch. I doubt that you know this, but they've accepted myself, Miss Shara, and Babus into their ranks."

I raised my eyebrows. "That's certainly interesting. Especially that Babus would actually join a clan. He was always so against the wars--before, you didn't introduce the subject around him unless you wanted an earache."

Ezel seemed to find that amusing. "How typical. But then, Babus always was a hypocrite."

I glared. "No he's not!" Ezel laughed. I sulked. "Not when I knew him."

"Perhaps not, but I knew him as a boy. He was always saying one thing, and then a while later, doing something completely the opposite." Seeing my stunned expression, Ezel chuckled. "We're almost the same age, he and I. He's only a few years older than I am."

"Huh." I paused, weighing my question. "We fought a while ago, at the Ambervale... and I almost killed him. Ezel, do you think... d'you think that Babus is still angry with me?"

The gray nu mou considered me carefully. "So you're the one that he told me about," he mused. "The biskmatar, who was supposed to have died... Believe me, my boy, if Babus was ever angry about that, which I seriously doubt, he will have gotten over it by now and will simply be glad to see you alive. So will most of the clansmen and women out there." He smiled and put a hand on my shoulder. "So why not stop hiding and let all the nice people breathe more easily?"

A momentary flash of fear roared in my mind, and I wanted to run. Shoving it away, I nodded. Cowardice would just destroy what might be my only chance to apologize for everything that had happened, for everything I had done. Ezel helped me up and led me into the common room, thankfully not drawing any attention to us.

Marche spotted us and headed over, giving us a relieved smile. "Thank you so much for helping, Ezel," he said fervently.

Ezel shrugged and headed over to the others in the clan, falling into a boisterous conversation with Doned and the young moogle called Nono. Marche laid one arm around my shoulders, and I looked at him uncertainly. He obviously had something in mind--I didn't. I supposed I'd have to trust him...

"Hey, everybody!" he called, raising his voice. "There's someone special here with us today..." I cursed under my breath. _Great _plan, Marche. I wished I could disappear. "I'd like to introduce to you our newest clan member!" Stunned and wide-eyed, I jerked away. Marche beamed at me. "Well, did you think that we'd just leave you to roam around looking lonely? You're one of us now, for however long you want to be."

Aware that I was blushing, I looked at the floor. "A-arigatou!" I finally managed, bowing deeply and peering up through my bangs. I slowly realized that the room was deathly quiet.

There was the soft sound of a footstep along with the creaking of a wooden board, and I turned slightly. Babus had been the one to step forward; he and all the others gathered (except, of course, for Ritz, Mewt, Doned, and Ezel) were staring at me speechlessly.

"Llednar... it's you... you're alive!" This had to be the first time I'd ever seen Babus so astonished. His normally impassive blue eyes had gone wide, and under his silver-white fur he'd become pale, giving him an almost ghostlike appearance. "But... but how?"

My vision blurred as tears prickled and gathered at the corners of my eyes, though I vainly tried to blink them away. "I... I..." The words I had planned for this moment all seemed to fade and crumble away. "Babus, I... I... I'm... _I'm so sorry!"_

"You have nothing to apologize for," he replied, slowly shaking his head.

"But I do," I whispered miserably. "What I did... it could've killed you! There isn't any excuse!"

Babus came forward, holding my gaze with his own. "We each did what we thought was the right thing. I can forgive that... and I already have." For a moment, I thought I caught a glimpse of a faint tracing of pink, upraised scars through my old partner's fur.

I stood silent for a moment, struggling for control of myself, and promptly gave up. I collapsed into Babus' arms and sobbed, giving a repeat performance of what Mewt had done upon meeting his old friend.

"Don't you worry," Babus told me reassuringly. "Everything will be fine. You have a home now with the rest of us."

I waited to cry myself out, knowing that holding back tears would only cause a greater flood the next time I felt this way. After what seemed like several hours, I drew back, scrubbing away the salt trails left behind on my face with the back of my hand. "I know," I said thickly. "That's why... it was worth it to come back here, after all."

"Right!" Marche announced happily. "Now let me introduce you to the gang! This--" he pointed to the second sniper, who was clad in muted shades of green "--is Miserie Ta'kanu, our resident psychotic. We mean that in a nice way, Miserie."

Miserie grinned. "Of course you do. And even if you didn't, I'd still take it as a compliment. I already know that I'm crazy."

"And his name is Neuman Kamiya," Marche continued, gesturing to the male bangaa, who appeared to be a white monk.

"Pleassure'ss all mine, I'm ssure," he grumbled, rolling his eyes and going back to whatever he'd been doing with the broken set of gaiters he was carrying.

"There's no talking to him before lunch," Marche explained. "She--" he pointed at the third viera, the assassin "--is Miserie's little sister, Daryle."

Daryle bowed shyly, then retreated behind her sister.

"And our lady here is Eleono Mochida." A short but strong-looking female bangaa nodded, giving me an intense gray-eyed stare. "She was born into the noble class, but she got cursed, and, well..."

"Oh, knock it off Marche," Eleono said dryly. "He certainly doesn't need to hear my whole life story." I raised my eyebrows. Just by listening to Eleono, I could tell that she was highly bred--the natural hiss of the phonetic "s" that all bangaa carried had been trained out of her speech.

"Okay, okay. You've already met Montblanc, though quite briefly, and this is his brother Nono." Marche proceeded to introduce Shara, who stared at me curiously. "And my fellow human here is Roland Neksu."

A quiet blue mage who'd sat in the corner smiled at me. There were flashes of silver, white, and opal in his costume--bits and pieces of jewelry that noted him as a powerful White Mage Adept. Why he'd decided to become a blue mage was beyond me. "Hello. I do believe we've met before."

There was a sudden, blurred image of this same mage Roland sitting beside me in a room choked with heat and the scent of fire-smoke. I frowned slightly, and it faded. "Do I know you?"

Roland smiled. "Well, I'm not surprised that you don't remember. After all, you were half-delirious and dying from fever at the time." (Author's Note: This story is still to come. Look for it later--its title is "White Sakura".)

I didn't understand, but decided that I would ask later. To my great relief, everyone seemed happy to have me around (and alive), and most were curious about my side of things as well. There was a great deal more introducing and shaking hands and hugging and laughing our fool heads off and crying and interrupting each other and that sort of thing. The only difference was that this time, I was involved.

There is just something very special about being a part of something like that, especially for the first time. It's as though it's what you always needed and always wanted and had to have, but you never knew it until that moment. It's a wonderful thing, being accepted. It's even better to find a place to belong.

After a while, Marche tapped me on the shoulder and beckoned, leading me out of the inn and towards the outskirts of town. Throngs of people chattered aimlessly to each other as they went about their daily business, and the noise was getting to be deafening.

"Where are we going?" I asked Marche once I caught up to him.

"You'll see," he replied, although I thought his voice sounded a little sad. We walked on, moving towards a part of town that didn't seem to see many people.

Finally, Marche stopped under a large tree, beckoning me to come sit by him. Curiously, I did. There was a small stone plaque in the ground, with the hilt of a sword fixed behind it. Leaning down, I read the engraved letters:

Gelarto Neksu

Paladin

19XX-20XX

I paused, letting it sink in. "This is... a grave?"

Marche nodded, looking at the ground. "Yes. The grave of a very close friend. He was the only member of our clan we ever lost. I wish you could've met him. You'd be the greatest of friends..."

"What happened?" I asked softly. Marche had come here wanting to tell me.

"We lost him in Jagd Dorsa," was the quiet reply. I nodded. Jagds, lawless areas where judges could not go, were one of the few areas in Ivalice in which people needed to fear death. The judges of each fight were truly there because of the danger of being killed in engagements--with them around, no one needed to be afraid of dying.

"Gelarto was... always a gentle soul. He hated fighting, but his family already had two mage sons and needed someone to carry on the tradition of becoming a knight. Vivi, the eldest, is a Black Mage Adept. Roland, well... you already know he's a White Mage Adept and Blue novice. Gelarto didn't really want to be a soldier, but his father persuaded him to, for the sake of the Neksu tradition. He'd been friends with Montblanc and Miserie for a long time, so when they started Clan Dragon, he joined up to get a better time of things. When I showed up, he was my best friend, other than Montblanc. Part of the reason he became a paladin was to heal others--he was that against fighting. Paladin was his only way to go.

"We had to go to Jagd Dorsa a while ago, to help Montblanc's little brother Nono. Nono has this airship, see, and it'd been attacked. The bandits who were responsible were hiding in the Jagd. I decided that we had to go and help, but everyone else was afraid--Gelarto most of all.

"I think he knew somehow that he was destined to die there. He was so scared... but I had to go and talk him into coming with us. I had no idea what was going to happen--none of us did.

"When we attacked the bandits, we had a pretty easy time of it, until one of them snuck up behind me. Gelarto saw it, and he used his 'cover' ability to switch us. He took the blow for me... it went so deep, it--it must have destroyed most of his vital organs. He cried out... I'll remember the sound for the rest of my life.

"We went crazy, after that. Only one of the bandits escaped alive. We killed them all, made them pay dearly for Gelarto." Marche ran a hand through his bangs, breathing raggedly. "I've never felt rage like that before... and I hope that I never feel it again. I _killed _people. I feel as though my hands will never be clean of those murders.

"I was with Gelarto at the end. It took him a full three hours to die from his wounds--I stayed with him the entire time as the blood drained from his body. It was horrible... to go like that..." Marche shook his head and closed his eyes, shuddering slightly. I waited patiently. He was probably watching his friend's death over in his mind. "We brought his body back here, and his sword... the Excalibur. Roland helped me seal it into his grave. Gelarto had made me promise to keep his sword out of the wrong hands until the destined one came to claim it."

I looked at the sword. It was sunk to the hilt into the earth, and I could now detect the faint white sparkle of magic around it. Marche put his hand on my shoulder.

"I want you to draw that sword, Llednar." I stared at him, shocked, about to protest. "I've seen something strongly resembling Gelarto in you. You don't show it often, but you have his kind heart. Excalibur is yours--I'm certain of that."

I looked at the Excalibur, then at my own sword SaveTheQueen. "But, my blade..."

Marche nodded. "I can teach you to use two at one time. You won't have to abandon SaveTheQueen--I know what that sword means to you."

I let my gaze shift back to Excalibur. Hesitantly, I put one hand on the pommel, then let it fall into an easy grip around the hilt. Warmth flooded my body through the sword, making the soft hair at the back of my neck stand on end.

Tightening my grip, I pulled. With a slow metallic sound, the Excalibur came free.


	8. The Girl

Shadowed Heart--Part 8

DISCLAIMER #2: I do NOT own anything FFTA related except for my own characters! All taverns, missions (well most of em), towns, places, etc. etc. belong to Squaresoft/Square-Enix and I do not lay any claim to them. Miserie, Daryle, Gelarto, Neuman, and Roland are all MINE, thank you very much, as is Makoto. Eleono is... erm... borrowed from the mission "Thorny Dreams". But all I really own of Squaresoft (Square-Enix)'s FFTA is a copy of the game. So go away and don't pick on me about it.

Author's Note: Okay, I can see the inquiries pouring in now, so I might as well explain about my OC party members. Miserie, Daryle, Gelarto, Neuman, and Roland are all actually my party members from my own game, and they are also always the clan members that I use in my fanfics. Technically, they are my characters, as their personalities are mine, and if you want to use them ask me first via email. (Not like you'd want to use em, but in case you do anyway...) Also, Gelarto and Roland's last name ("Neksu") is the first name of my favorite (and only) blue mage. (Roland ish a white mage.)

Eleono is the bangaa girl mentioned in the mission "Thorny Dreams", which isn't really any part of the storyline. I thought it would be interesting to have a female bangaa around, since all the ones we see happen to be male, so I decided to borrow her. I'm sure that the company doesn't mind. (Even if they do, I've already stated that she's borrowed and not mine.)

No, my Gelarto did not die in Jagd Dorsa. I realized that if I wanted the storyline in my "own version" of FFTA to progress, I had to kill him off. Which is all very sad, but I had to. The Gelarto in my game is spoiled rotten because I recently discovered that paladins and biskmatars can equip the same stuff. I would freak if I ever lost him. (Also, I've never lost a single unit in a Jagd. I'm very paranoid about my peoples.)

Lastly (so this doesn't get to be giant like last chapter's A/N), to answer the many questions about Lune and Katarina. These two girls are Ritz's friends from early in the game, the ones who accompany you and Lyle in the snowball fight. Lune is the short-haired girl on your team, and Katarina is the long-haired girl on Lyle's team. Their names are randomized in the game, but that's what they were called once when I was playing the beginning over just for kicks, and I decided to keep them that way because I liked those names. Lune is quiet and shy, but Katarina is a nasty evil prep who dates Guinness.

Okay. More story now, with the beginning of the second saga. Enjoy!

---

I sighed and took a deep breath, looking around at the terrain of the Nubswood. "So peaceful!"

After the tearful reunion which had presided two days ago, I was out on my first "mission" as a part of Clan Dragon--to patrol the part of the Nubswood that was clan property and make sure that no intruders were trying to steal our land. So far, nothing really big had happened, aside from a skirmish with monsters early in the morning. Now, I yawned and sat down under a tree, leaning back and breathing in the scent of the earth around me. Somewhere above me, a bird chirped, to be answered by another. "So quiet!"

I took off my hat and laid it on the tree root next to my shoulder, then loosened the cords of my gaiters, giving my legs a break. I also stripped off my gloves and loosened the belt that hung like a bandolier across my chest, relieving Excalibur's weight from my back. I left SaveTheQueen where it was fixed to my belt at my right hip. It was so refreshing to just relax like this after all the hectic excitement of the past few days! Marche had spent half of yesterday drilling me on wielding two blades at once--I was as clumsy with my left hand as a novice new to the sword. SaveTheQueen had become the sword I used as a left-hand blade; I knew its weight and capabilities much better and trusted it in a way I could not believe in Excalibur just yet. The latter blade was my right-hand blade--I would rather deal with it in my dominant hand than try to learn the style of left-handed fighting with the more awkward sword. All the same, I was getting to handle it.

More birds chirped, and a soft breeze ruffled the grass. "It's so serene," I said quietly, on the edge of bliss. I closed my eyes, letting the red of the sunlight filter through my eyelids and start a burning behind them.

"If something doesn't happen here soon, I'm gonna wack out," I grumbled, sitting up abruptly. "This is so gods-damned boring, I don't know how the others can stand this kind of work! I'm a mageknight, a fighter! Why am I stuck with all the dumb jobs anyway?"

The faint sound of ragged, half-sobbing breaths to my right made me turn, gripping SaveTheQueen's hilt. As it grew closer, I dropped the sword for a moment to tighten my gaiters again and put my gloves back on. It would be stupid and reckless to try to get into a fight without my armor. I stood up carefully so as not to disturb the grass around me and headed over in the direction of the sound. I left Excalibur where it was--the unworthy still could not touch it without being burned. I didn't need to fear its theft if what Marche said was true.

Carefully padding over the ground, I stopped short at what I saw, the warmth draining from my body. A young viera woman was staggering through the trees, crying bitterly and clutching a little girl tightly to her body. Deep wounds covered her, most if not all of them streaming blood. One of her long ears was torn almost completely off. At least three arrows stuck from her back.

"Oh my God," I breathed, horrified. What in the world could have done such a thing to her...? "Ma'am...?" I hurried to her side just as her legs crumpled, catching her and letting her fall to the ground. "Ma'am...? What happened to you?"

The young woman's eyes flickered open, and she studied my face. "Who... are you...?" she asked in a pitifully broken voice. The effort of speech caused a thin bubble of blood to trickle from the corner of her mouth. "Are... you... a knight...?"

I backed up a step and knelt, as was only proper. "My apologies, my lady. My name is Llednar Twem, and I'm a biskmatar." I paused slightly at the look of wonder that crossed the viera's face. "Is... there anything I can do to ease your pain...?"

"No time," she said brokenly, her voice barely a whisper. "They're... coming..." She groaned softly in pain. "Promise me... promise me you'll protect... my Makoto... my daughter..." She looked helplessly down at the girl in her arms, who was unconscious. "Don't... let them... take her..."

"I will," I told her, laying a hand on the girl's head. "She'll be safe with my friends."

The little girl, Makoto, whimpered softly, beginning to rouse. "Mommy...?" she said, opening her eyes. "Mommy...?"

"Makoto," the dying viera sighed. "You must... trust this boy. He... is your only protection... now." With a shuddering sigh, she leaned back against the tree, passing into unconsciousness.

"Who are you?" Makoto asked in a trembling voice. I looked her over. She had wide green eyes, soft, wavy long hair, and a naturally dark complexion, as all vieras do. Her long ears, quivering slightly in fright, were tipped with soft black fur, and she wore a slightly faded yellow dress with ruffled edges. She was also wearing a pair of caligula, like myself.

Caligula, made of the softest leather and cloth, are the traditional footwear of the ancient palace guards, and can now only be afforded by the very rich. Aside from being very comfortable, caligula also give a major advantage in battle and missions involving stealth, as they have tough but flexible cloth soles. They allow a skillful wearer to pad silently over any terrain, so long as he (or she) doesn't disturb anything around.

There were many questions yet to be answered about this girl.

"I'm Llednar," I said quietly, loosening Makoto's mother's grip on her. "Don't worry anymore. I will protect you." Makoto was still hesitant. _God help me_, I thought to myself, _I am no good with kids at all. Just please let her trust me... _"D'you see that tree over there?" I pointed to the one I'd left Excalibur by. Makoto nodded. "Good. Get over to it. You'll see a sword leaning against it--wait for me by it. I need to 'talk' to the people who've been chasing you." Looking scared, the little viera did as she was told, with a single, pained look back to her mother.

As another set of footsteps grew closer, I drew SaveTheQueen, glaring into the trees towards the advancing pursuers. "All right, show yourselves!" I yelled, wondering at the harsh edge that had come into my voice--I hadn't spoken like this since I was last in Ivalice. "You cowards! Get out of hiding and face me with whatever honor you have!"

Templars--several of them--came tramping out of the trees, as well as a few paladins and mog knights. A pair of nu mou, a sage and an alchemist, approached as well, followed by a bangaa bishop. Each was clad in the finest of the Bervenian armory--the foreseer's eye, the royal emblem, was branded upon their armor and weapons. I was dealing with a company of royal scouts.

_This cannot be happening, _I thought to myself. _Even Remedi isn't this inhumane! What's going on in Bervenia that I don't know about...? _Out loud, I threw them my challenge. "Whoever's done this to the viera here... I can't believe you. This brutality should be beyond any of you, but apparently it's not. You pack of slime. You're disgusting. I simply cannot believe that Ivalice has come to this! Why? Why was she hunted? Why did she give her last breath here, as a young woman, a young mother? Why force a little girl to go through this, to lose her mother this way? I want the truth out of you!"

The ranks of the templars parted, and a nu mou beastmaster, flanked by a human hunter and a viera sniper, came through. Following them was a pack of slavering Tonberries, their claws, knives, and jaws stained with blood. I had a sick hunch that I knew whose.

"What would you pretend to know about the palace?" the beastmaster asked coldly. "You, a common clanner? Why do you want to know the crimes of the condemned? Foolish human boy. Give up. You're surrounded and outnumbered. Or... you can join us. Join us in hunting the little girl, who seems to have gotten away. Share in the spoils. Join us." He held forward one hand, as though expecting me to take it. I stepped back.

"No." The beastmaster flinched as though I'd struck him. "I will never join someone like you."

"Have it your own way, little soldier," he spat. "Guards! Seize him!"

A judge, perched on a chocobo, came running up between us. "Today's engagement: the royal guards, versus this boy..." He paused and looked at me strangely. "This boy..." He stopped short again. "Who are you? You're not in my registry."

"I wouldn't be," I muttered under my breath. Speaking more loudly, I said, "I joined Clan Dragon a few days back. I guess you haven't gotten the newbies on yet." I smirked. "But as for me... I'm a biskmatar." The royal guards reeled in shock. "My name is Llednar Twem." How many times was I going to have to introduce myself today?

The judge frowned at me, then continued his speech. "Today's engagement: the royal guards, versus the biskmatar, Llednar. Today's laws forbid the use of any techniques..." his eyes lingered on the templars, who all cursed, "charge attacks..." the mog knights fumed, "and missiles." The hunter and sniper looked very grumpy. "Ready? Begin!"

I took off around the judge and leveled SaveTheQueen, heading through the Tonberries and slitting their throats as I went. (Nobody really cared about monsters, so it was okay to kill them.) From there, I KO'd the hunter and sniper with a well-placed Life Render shuriken attack, though the beastmaster ducked and it missed him. I wheeled as the mog knights came towards me, their swords at the ready, and fended off their attacks until I was able to strike blows of my own. As the mog knights staggered back, I ran off again until I was at the distance necessary to use my Abyss spell without endangering my own life. Flinging my right hand skyward, I cried out the incantation and watched as the mog knights were all knocked unconscious by the blast of poisonous air that rusted their armor and weapons.

So far, things were definitely going my way. The guards were all confused and flustered by the strength of my assault, and I'd gotten rid of a third of my enemies with my attack. Now I only had to deal with the bishop, the beastmaster, and the horde of partly-disabled templars.

The bishop raised his staff and shouted some sort of spell, and in an instant--faster than I could get out of the way--a blast of scything air encased me, and I couldn't help but let out a yell in pain and dismay. "Dammit!" I'd forgotten how quickly the elements obeyed the call of a bishop. A mass of fine cuts covered my hands and face, and tears formed in the fabric of my clothes. Blood ran down my cheek from a horizontal cut at the cheekbone, dripping onto my vest and creating a dark stain there.

Trying to ignore the pain, I charged forward and openly attacked the bishop, slicing his staff in two as he raised it to fend me off. A thin line of green bangaa blood started across his face as he dropped into the ground, unconscious.

But I'd forgotten the templars. Seeing me so close to them, they stampeded towards me, roaring out battle cries. "Aw shit." In the space of two seconds, I was surrounded by a mass of bristling weapons.

"Why not just give up?" came the taunting voice of the beastmaster. "That way, we won't have to drag your body before the queen and let her kill you herself. You'll just come off with a sentence in jail."

I gritted my teeth. "Go to hell," I replied, bracing myself with one foot forward and the other behind. I pushed my hands out to each side and let loose a Life Render attack with all the strength I had. There were several guttural cries and the sounds of falling bodies, but the ring of bangaa around me was still thick.

"Not again... not again...!" I couldn't keep myself from saying the words aloud as my sides were pierced by sword and spear. I was going to suffer another defeat. The pain was more than I could bear. I was going to die again.

Die... again?

"NO!" came a shrill shriek from far away. Suddenly, a beam of light crashed down into the midst of the bangaa templars. It made the full circle around me, destroying in an instant the strength of my foes. They all collapsed like hewn trees after being cut to the breaking point.

I looked up and saw the summoned beast Madeen, a reptilian sorceress, curl its lip and growl before disappearing in a puff of cloud. On the other side of the battlefield stood Makoto with her hands outstretched, breathing heavily, the air still crackling around her with the raw power of her summon.

Not allowing myself to wonder, I leaped over the bodies of the bangaa and ran for the beastmaster, who was frozen in shock.

I whipped back my sword, letting the power gather from deep inside my heart. "Dying breath, light my blade and sing in shadow..." I looked up at the beastmaster. "Well? Anything to say before I finish you?"

"It's not possible..." he whispered, shaking his head numbly.

"Oh, it is." The strength in me swelled, and I whipped my sword forward. "OMEGA!"

My backhand slash forced the nu mou off his feet. He landed in a still, unmoving heap a few feet away. Gasping, I sheathed SaveTheQueen.

"And the win goes to the biskmatar," the judge announced. As if we didn't know that already.

The world tilted sickly before me, and there was a dark roar in my ears as everything went black.


	9. Discussions About Said Girl

Shadowed Heart--Part 9

(see disclaimer in Part 8)

I opened my eyes to a rush of dizziness. "Ouch."

There was a squeal, and something rather the size of a nine-year-old gave me a giant hug. "You're okay!"

I recognized Makoto, the little viera I'd promised to protect. "I repeat: Ouch. That hurt..."

As my vision cleared, I recognized Shara and Roland, who were sitting by me and leaning over me anxiously. "Hello," I said. "When did you get here?"

"We found you out in the field," Roland explained. "You were unconscious, and this little girl was trying to wake you up. We took you both back here... what else could we do? Who is she?"

Makoto stopped glomping me, allowing me to sit up. We were indeed in one of the rooms of the inn-slash-pub of Cyril, the Prancing Chocobo. Dropping a little curtsy to Roland, she said, "Makoto Ruchida of Bervenia, sir." Roland blushed (presumably at being called "sir").

"Where did you two meet?" Shara asked gently, sitting down next to Makoto and me. Makoto's cheerfulness dropped away and she plunked down into a sitting position, throwing her arms around me and starting to whimper.

Sadly, I put my hand on Makoto's back. "I don't know why, but she and her mother were being chased by a sect of the royal guard. Makoto here was unconscious, and her mother was carrying her. Lady Ruchida was... hurt, very badly. Maimed. I... won't describe the injuries here." I didn't want Makoto to get any more upset. "Makoto's mother entrusted her to me, and then..." I shook my head helplessly.

"You poor thing," Shara said, going pale. "That's terrible!"

I nodded sadly. "I challenged the guards when they appeared, and fought them off. When I was surrounded, Makoto... somehow, she summoned Madeen. She saved my life." I had no doubts about that. "After that... I can't remember anything. I guess I passed out, from losing too much energy."

Roland was considering Makoto with a very odd look on his face. It was as though he was trying to register her energy levels by sight (I've heard that Adepts can do that) and was being surprised by what he saw, in a very bad way. After a few moments, he sighed and leaned back slightly. "I guess it's been pretty rough on you, then... Shara, you've got that potion for dreamless sleep in your room, right?" The viera nodded and extended one hand to Makoto, who took it hesitantly.

"Come on. You need to rest," Shara said gently. "I'll make sure that you won't dream anything."

Once they were gone, the calm facade dropped from Roland's face and an expression of utter horror took its place. "My God, do you know what that little girl can do?" I shook my head slowly. "She has all the power of a Summoner Adept, and it takes _thirty years _to become one on your own! Do you have any idea of what sort of family she comes from?"

I shook my head slowly. "No, just that whoever they are, they're rich enough to afford a pair of caligula for her. I doubt that Makoto even knows she has this kind of power, somehow. It's... a little beyond me, but still. She summoned Madeen to help me, but she was so crazy from fright that I doubt she even remembers it. Makoto was even able to control Madeen to some extent, to shape the path of the beast's attack so that it missed me completely."

"Probably part of the palace..." Roland mused. "And I'll bet that Makoto has everything to do with her family's persecution. I don't know politics very well, but the name 'Ruchida' definitely rings a bell. The only people in this clan who pay attention to politics at all are Babus, Ezel, and Eleono, and Ezel only listens to judicial rulings. Even though antilaws are legal now, the rulings still govern which cards can be made and rapidly produced everywhere." I nodded. I'd heard of that briefly from the queen once we'd reached the Ambervale and she was able to take the reins again in an indirect way. "Anyway, I don't know where the hell Babus is, but Eleono is engaging, and I think she'll be back pretty soon. We can ask her then."

---

We had all assembled in our "common room" in the Prancing Chocobo (all except for Makoto, who was still unconscious in Shara's room) to discuss the matter of Makoto and what had happened to her family. I recounted our meeting at Marche's request, and Roland explained the matter of Makoto's power levels.

"That's wrong, kupo..." Montblanc said, shaking his head. "It's wrong to chase down a child like that for any reason, kupopo!"

"What was her last name?" Eleono asked, her gray eyes as hard as steel.

"Ruchida."

"Oh. The 'heretics', or so they've been branded by the palace. There's a warrant out for the little girl's arrest right now." Eleono curled her lip, and I think that if we were outside, she'd have spat. "It's pitiful. What's even more pitiful is that the palace isn't telling anyone exactly why the family is being persecuted. And they were hunting her with _tonberries. _Give me a break."

"Bounties. More fun," Marche grumbled, raising his eyes to the heavens. He'd had a bounty on his own head once, when the crystals of Ivalice were still a pressing defense issue. "Why do these things always happen to us?"

"Quit complaining," Ritz snapped. "I for one and going to be glad to have the chance to 'speak' with any who are going with the palace on this one."

"Either way, what I want to know is," Miserie said shrewdly, _"why _exactly the palace got angry at the Ruchidas in the first place. Eleono, have you got any idea?"

Eleono shrugged. "They don't exactly speak to the public about stuff like this."

"It must have been serious. They wiped out her entire family." Everyone turned. It was Shara who had spoken. "I used a special kind of hypnosis on Makoto right before I put her out, so that I could hear everything that happened from the first moment the guards came into the Ruchida wing of the palace. They killed _everyone. _Her mother just barely escaped with her."

"I couldn't believe it at first," I said slowly. "I mean, Remedi isn't even this inhumane--sorry, Mewt. But if she isn't behind this, who is?"

"The Ruchidas are a very politically powerful family," Ezel put in. "They were the ones who first pressed to legalize antilaws."

"Yes, and I've heard two stories about why this happened," Babus said quietly. We all fell silent and looked at him. "They're both very vague, and equally unlikely of the Ruchida family, but who knows? The first is that they tried to establish their own religion, based around the 'miraculous' powers of their daughter. As such, the church would declare them heretics. The second is much more probable--that they were dabbling in illegal class-building." We all stared at each other. "The Ruchidas pushed for a new method of training people for jobs to create elites more quickly, and claimed to have proof of its working. The palace turned them down (quite sensibly) because if this method was legalized, it would lead to more dangerous criminals and activity of the corrupt. The family seemed to quench its desire for seeing this method come to public use for the time, but these rumors... I don't know. It's possible that they used the training to give this girl the power she has."

"That'ss jusst crazy!" Neuman broke in, gesturing widely. "Ussing your own kid ass a guinea pig for your experiment! I bet that'ss not what really happened."

"True. No parents would do that to their kid. And Neuman? May I suggest to you not to say 'as' anymore because it sounds like you're swearing?"

"Sshut up, Miserie."

"So we're back to where we started," Ezel said, giving Neuman and Miserie a warning look. "We have no idea why Makoto's family was persecuted, or why she has this kind of power."

"We need to protect her," I said softly. A hush fell over the room, and everyone stared at me. Getting a little flustered (I can't stand being stared at!), I continued. "Well, we know that this is wrong. And... I promised Makoto's mother that I would protect her. I'm not going to break that promise."

"Martyrss!" Neuman snorted, rolling his eyes. Miserie and Roland, sitting on either side of him, both punched him.

---

I lay back on my futon, not even bothering to get in. Staring at the ceiling, I wondered just what the hell I'd gotten myself into this time. By accepting the responsibility of protecting Makoto, I'd put my clan in danger and probably the lives of the Cyril townspeople. The guards looking for Makoto seemed to be out for blood and probably wouldn't mind weeding out innocents who just so happened to be in the way. It was very clear that whoever was behind this was not Remedi. A public, blustering search like this was not her style. She would do her work in secret, and probably employ a team of ninjas and assassins. And she would also have seen to it that the Ruchidas were removed from their place in the palace, legally prosecuted for something or other, and killed in her dungeons, instead of ordering this messy kind of throatslitting. Even for taking care of Marche, Remedi had just sent me and whatever guards I needed or asked for.

If the queen wasn't in control of this investigation, who was? And what did it mean for her?

Suddenly cold, I crawled under the sheets, curled into a ball, and pressed a finger to my right temple until the room faded into black. I'd always done that, even in the real world, when I thought I'd have trouble sleeping.

I let the depths claim me. Tomorrow would be a long day.


	10. Shattered

Shadowed Heart--Part 10

See disclaimer in Part 8

:too lazy to remove old AN... hehehe:

Author's Note: Okay, so how do you like the Makoto storyline so far? One of my beta readers keeps demanding more fights, so I hope the eighth chapter satisfies him (it's Winter Break, so for once you'll be getting this before he does). This is possibly the biggest story on that I'll have up here for a LONG time; I doubt that even my next FFTA story, Dreams to Come (not being put up till MUCH later since it has major spoilers), will be able to rival it. Try to keep me motivated; another of my stories just sort of ran dry after the eleventh chapter; I haven't posted anything on it for a while either.

In the words of Kaelle-chan, fellow Llednar-kun fan, there's another story I must "plug". It's "The Hero Gaol", a retelling of the infamous hero's tale, and I've found it to be very good. I just hope the author updates soon, because I WANT MORE I WANT MORE I WANT MORE! ;; This story assumes that Gaol was also a biskmatar, and has gotten to be overall very decent. Ne!

In other news, I've upped the rating on this story, as it's going to get... er... stuff... soon. And definitely more violent. We're going to have some, let's say, hitokiri-Battousai moments. chibi face And I'm not saying any more cause it'll spoil the story for you! smile ducks bricks thrown by POed readers

Okay, so I continue now. And review, darn you, or I'll send the evil Hiei bats to get you. Or maybe just give you to my muse (Ghaleon)'s girlfriend to "play" with. (Did I mention that she likes to torture people?) Or maybe even give you to my muse's secretary (Karst), who loves to burn things and needs something else to torch besides my personal belongings. Or maybe I'll just have Llednar-kun use Omega on you. ...I think you get the point by now. ;;;

---

Mewt, Daryle, Babus, and I headed over the dead hills and plains of the Jagd, moving towards the meetingplace that Clan Shadow had set for us. Marche and Ritz were busy at the tournaments in the Bervenia Stadium, so Montblanc, being in charge, sent the four of us to deal with the challengers.

"These places just get creepier and creepier every minute," I said under my breath. "I swear that somebody keeps em like this on purpose. How people can actually live in places like this is so totally beyond me."

"You're scaring the prince," Babus said drily. Mewt did look awfully pale.

"You can really... die here, can't you?" he said shakily, looking around.

"Well, that's what you're here for," I replied. "You're a white mage. You're here to take care of us and keep that from happening. And Babus and I are here to take care of you so that nobody will think they're sneaky enough to try to take you out while Daryle takes care of business."

"I guess so..." Mewt still looked uncertain.

"Llednar!" came a very familiar voice from behind me. My heart stopped as the blood drained from my face. No. No _way _she'd gotten all the way out here.

Makoto, looking indignant, was standing maybe seven feet behind me, panting a little and glaring in my general direction.

"What are you doing here!" I cried helplessly. "I thought I told you to stay in Cyril with the others, where it's _safe!"_

"That's boring," Makoto shot back sullenly. "I wanna follow you."

I glared at Daryle and Babus, who were choking back laughter. "You shut up!" I turned back to Makoto, coming forward so that I could talk to her. "D'you remember what happened to your parents? The very same can happen to you or any of us right here! And not just that, but there are more palace guards like the ones chasing you yesterday who are out looking for you. They want to kill you! You need to get back to Cyril, _now._"

Makoto looked at the ground, a dismal expression on her face. "But-- but I just wanted..." She looked up at me, pleading, tears starting in her eyes. "I-I didn't want anything bad to happen to you..."

I sighed. She'd gotten the better of me. I was so unused to having people worried for my sake that that kind of thing got to me every time. "Look, I know how many people you've lost. And I know that you don't want to lose anyone else. But our biggest concern is that someone is going to get to _you. _We can't let your family's deaths be in vain. Okay? You can come, just this once. I'll ask the boss of Clan Shadow, Hanzou, to just let you sit off on the sidelines so you won't get hurt. The Clan Shadow codes call for strict fair play."

"YAY!" Makoto glomped me, all trace of tears gone. "Thank you thank you thank you!"

Curse all manipulative little girls.

---

The five of us headed down into the deserted town of Ahli, where as promised, Hanzou and his clan were waiting for us.

"Hanzou!" I called. "We're here from Clan Dragon. Before the engagement, I have a favor to ask of you." Clan Shadow's representatives were all ninjas and assassins. Wonderful. We really had our work cut out for us.

One of the ninjas, a young man dressed in deep navy blue, stepped forward. "I am Hanzou. What is it that you want?"

"This girl..." I pointed to Makoto. "We didn't really want her along, but she followed us anyway. Give us your word that she will not be harmed."

The ninja, Hanzou, nodded. "We don't attack children, unlike some clans. As long as the girl stays out of the fight, we can guarantee her safety."

I pointed to a leafless tree that looked as though it were still quite strong. "Makoto, go wait for us there. Hopefully, we'll be done soon." Makoto looked a little sulky, but she nodded and went over to the tree, hoisting herself onto the lowest branch and getting into a position where she could watch.

"Babus, guard Mewt," I said quietly. "The two of you need to stay back here while Daryle and I fix those Shadow peons. If anything happens and we see it, we'll come over to help."

"No need to worry," Babus assured me. "I've been serving the royal family all my life, and this is what I've been trained for."

"Whatever you say," I murmured as I studied the opposition. The other two ninjas each carried two swords, as I did, although the younger of them, dressed in forest green (the other was in shades of deep violet), didn't look too experienced. One of the assassins was close to Hanzou--intimately close. If the two of them were a couple, they'd probably be very good at working together. The remaining human and viera looked confident and sometimes flicked their gazes to their leaders--meaning that Hanzou and the assassin gave all the signals.

"Victory conditions depend on the defeat of each side's leader," Hanzou stated. "As I am the clan leader here, I will fill that role. Who is your leader?"

"Good question." I looked at the others. "Who _is _the leader anyway?"

"You are," Mewt said simply. I took a few steps back. "It's true. Since we came here, you've been the one calling the shots. You're definitely the best tactician here. We look to you."

Nonplussed, I turned back to Hanzou. "I guess... I am."

Hanzou nodded thoughtfully. "Right then... begin!" He shot forward with incredible speed, leaping into the air towards us and heading straight for Mewt. With a quick look, I signaled Daryle forward as I knocked away the kunai that Hanzou sent in our direction. As the ninjas' leader drove down towards us, drawing his katana, Babus raised his morning star to block the hit and swung at Hanzou in return. Hanzou dodged the hit, and tried to get around to Mewt, who was busy casting an auto-regenerate spell on his mage and himself.

I flipped Excalibur and SaveTheQueen out of their sheaths and ran to meet Hanzou's rush, blocking him with both blades. "He's not your opponent; I am."

"Very well, then." Hanzou dashed backwards and started forward again towards me, moving at a speed greater than any I'd ever seen.

For me, time seemed to slow down as Hanzou headed forward. I saw and analyzed each step he took. As his attack was an acceleration attack that would probably also utilize the unsheathing of his blade, he had to move with godlike speed. With each step he took, I anticipated his lunge. Six steps was the necessary advance for this type of attack; seven whole steps would throw off the speed needed, and the user would probably crash or hit the wrong target as the intended victim got away. (Note from Llednar: When I say "steps", I mean what you'd probably think of as _two _steps: One with your right and one with your left.) But after the sixth step, Hanzou thrust his left foot forward, actually balancing his entire body weight on it for a split second as he prepared to spring.

_The guy thinks of every damn thing. Got to give him credit for that, _I thought as I headed out to meet Hanzou's strike with my own. For some reason, he was still going really, really slow. It was easy to jam the hilts of my swords into his diaphragm, totally disabling him.

Hanzou collapsed, gasping, as I dug my heels into the ground and skidded to a halt. Time was "normal" again now. The leader of the ninja clan struggled to get up, but collapsed. The fight was over--we'd won in a single fell swoop.

"Tsubame!" Hanzou called to his assassin partner. "That's enough!" The viera Tsubame was still locking blades with Daryle. Hearing her leader call, Tsubame hurried over to his side, completely ignoring her former opponent.

"Hanzou..." She knelt beside him and inspected the wound. "Hanzou, this..."

"You're good," Hanzou told me with a little grimace. "Almost too good. Biskmatar, right?" I nodded proudly. "I thought so. Everyone's talking about the new clanner in Dragon, a renegade biskmatar who broke off from the palace."

I shrugged. "Not exactly renegade... I follow Mewt here, and since he does a lot of hanging out with Clan Dragon, so do I. Besides, the queen and I really do not see eye to eye on a lot of things."

Makoto suddenly tackled me, throwing me to the side. Her grip on me was tight enough that I was finding it hard to breathe. "Ouch! Makoto! Get off!"

She didn't. "Over there... in the bushes--!" A silver dart whistled from the area she'd indicated, heading straight for her unprotected back. Knowing that I couldn't get out of the way in time, I raised Excalibur's blade as a shield.

The dart hit the sword's blade, and there was an awful cracking sound. It had actually gone _through _the sword, and was stuck in the middle. The cracking continued, and thin lines spread all across the sword from that focal point.

The blade of Excalibur shattered, leaving me with a single jagged edge near the hilt and several dozen little shards.

"Shit," I hissed under my breath. Dropping Excalibur's hilt, I flipped SaveTheQueen into my right hand, shook off Makoto, and took a few menacing steps towards the bushes in question. There was a little yelp, and a human hunter took off towards the edge of the ghost town.

"Oh, no you don't!" I chased after the hunter, a ball of absolute fury building in my core. He broke my sword, dammit! I had all the right in the world to be a little pissed at him! Catching up, I tackled the young man. He wasn't much more than a boy--maybe three or four years older than me. "Who sent you!"

"I don't know!" the hunter cried. I placed a foot on his back and rested my weight there. He yelped. "I onestly don't know, sir! E came all dressed in black, and offered me a bounty for yon broad!"

I stepped harder. " 'Yon broad', as you put it, is only a little girl! Where the hell is your decency!"

"Beg pardon," the hunter gulped, "Th' man said that th' chit had t' be found, for her family's sake..." Oh, I had so had it with him--!

Feeling the pupils of my eyes slit, I lowered my voice to a malicious whisper. "She is not a broad. She is not a chit. She's a scared little nine-year-old girl who lost her entire family to vultures like you two days ago! Now, if you don't know who the hell recruited you, then you can at least tell me this: Who's the best blacksmith you have knowledge of?"

"Blacksmith, sir?" The hunter looked painfully bewildered. "Why are you askin' a pore ol' unter like me about a blacksmith?" My temper finally snapped. The scruffy youth found himself staring at SaveTheQueen's business end.

"Because you broke my sword," I said through gritted teeth. "And it was the last legacy of a paladin too frail and pure-hearted to last in this world. Now you are going to direct me to someone who can fix it, or I am going to slit your throat and find someone by myself. Feel like talking yet?"

The hunter gulped and licked his lips, his eyes trained on the point of my knightsword. "There's... Blacksmith Buckles, a bangaa... you might be able to find im on the outskirts of Muscadet, if e's around. E'll fix your sword for you, if you can defeat im in battle and bring im the right stuff."

I removed SaveTheQueen from the hunter's face. "Get out of here, before I change my mind about killing you." The boy nodded and fled. I turned back to my friends and went over to them slowly, falling to my knees and gathering the shards of Excalibur. I slowly fingered one piece, nicking my thumb on the jagged edge.

I couldn't stand it any longer. I collapsed into a little ball amid the ruin of Gelarto's sword and cried.


	11. Healed

Shadowed Heart--Part 11

See disclaimer in Part 8

:Once again, too lazy to remove old A/N:

Author's Note: A short one this time, just to deal with the many questions about the inn in Cyril called the Prancing Chocobo. This is actually taken out of the game--you can check what the options are (i.e. missions, pubs, item shops etc. etc.) when your cursor is on a place and you're checking that stuff. If you choose to examine the pubs, you can see what they're called and a little background information on them (Square-Enix thinks of positively everything!); from there, I learned that the Cyril pub is called the "Prancing Chocobo", the Sphrom pub is the "Long Ear Tavern", the Baguba pub is the "Golden Gil", the Muscadet pub is the "Spina Lodge", and the Cadoan pub's name completely deserts my mind right now and I'm too lazy to go get my GBA to check. sticks out tongue I think it had something to do with "frogs" though. doesn't know

Have I gotten you curious about Makoto yet? laughs dodges bricks thrown by readers Don't worry, you'll hear everything--eventually. I'm actually getting through this saga pretty fast, as compared to the previous ones. (I just haven't gotten to the library very often. So sue me. Nobody else seems to be updating during Winter Break, especially not some people LIKE KAELLE glare) I especially want to get to the Tanabata Festival, because there the fun REALLY starts! cackles evilly rubs hands together All you people craving romance will finally get it. Just to say that, which should be enough to make you REAL mad this time. innocent smile And yes, we'll have some... erm... interesting... Marche/Ritz stuff coming along. Keep in mind that Llednar is VERY innocent on the romance front. He's never had the birds-and-the-bees talk (the in-depth one) so he can be a little bit clueless. Bear with him.

BTW, sorry I haven't updated so much lately. First I got sidetracked playing Sword of Mana (great game, but too many people die). Then I got sidetracked writing a couple fanfictions for it. Then I got sidetracked doing my gag science project. I hate them, but now they're done with (YES!), so now there's more time to write. If you want to look at my SoM fanfics, then either go to my author's page or check out the section for Secret/Legend of Mana under the Games category. They need attention. nudge nudge, wink wink

Looks at A/N sweat drop Jeez, I really did mean for this to be short this time... oh well. Me and my rambling, right? I sure do like to talk... anyway, here's the story, before you get too short-fused with me. Enjoy!

---

I sighed deeply and ran my fingertips along the shattered pieces of Excalibur for the millionth time. The empty sheath banging against my back matched the hollowness I felt in my heart.

Just through Marche's stories, I'd started to feel very close to the gentle young man called Gelarto. I really did feel, as he'd told me, that we would've become great friends and hit it off perfectly. If not for that venture into Jagd Dorsa... but at any rate, bearing Gelarto's sword made me feel closer to him somehow. And now, by my own idiotic foolishness, I'd gotten it broken.

I could've spared myself SaveTheQueen and used it to shield Makoto instead; even though I'd be just as heartbroken, probably more, by the loss of my first sword, I wouldn't feel as if I'd let someone, somewhere, down.

The door to my room creaked open and Makoto padded in, looking guilty. Bewildered, I beckoned for her, and she came, whimpering a little. "Oh, Llednar..." Looking entirely inconsolable, she threw her arms around me. "I'm so, so sorry!"

"What for?" I awkwardly put a hand on Makoto's back.

"If it hadn't been for me, your sword wouldn't have been broken!" she wailed. "You were right. I should've listened to you and come straight back here!"

A deep, protective concern stirred in my heart. "Makoto, don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault at all. If you want to pin it on someone, blame them that sent that hunter after you."

"B-but... but..."

The fury which had slept in my core for a while flared up again. People could play at their politics all they wanted, I really didn't care, but to involve a little girl like this, that was wrong. To destroy an entire family but leave a survivor like this... to twist her mind until she blamed herself for everything... only the most perverted, corrupt of minds could do this with indifferent hearts. It was wrong, wrong, WRONG! "Makoto, it's the fault of the people who decided they wanted you so badly that they had to go through your family to get to you. I can't tell you any more than that. Nobody knows why people do these things, cept for those who do them; all we have to know is that it's the most twisted thing a person could do to another. No matter what their excuse is--they could say they're after me, for example, I've been at odds with Queen Remedi for a while, and I'm technically supposed to be in her service--it's still the fault of the person who decides they're going to do something wicked. D'you understand? _None of this is your fault, Makoto. _None of it. And I don't ever want to hear you say otherwise."

Makoto looked at me woefully, and for a moment it seemed as though she was struggling to make a decision within herself. But then the expression in her eyes changed, and she smiled although there seemed to be a great pain in her heart, and a great sadness. She wiped her tears away, and smiled reluctantly. "Okay." She hugged me again. "Thank you."

The warmth of the little girl's embrace stayed with me for a long time after that. Only much later did I realize that I'd grown to love her like a little sister, more than I'd ever loved anyone in my life.

---

"D'you have any idea where this 'Buckles' guy is supposed to be?" I asked Neuman. We were both lying on the roof of the Prancing Chocobo to soak up the sun's rays while there were still no clouds. "I've had twelve different answers from twelve different people, and I'm starting to get annoyed."

Neuman shrugged. "If it'ss really the blackssmith I'm thinking of, that'ss really likely. Buckless' work iss in high demand, but he doessn't work unlesss he hass a good reasson to. Sso he travelss to avoid the crowdss demanding him."

I shrugged, still annoyed. "Well, I really would prefer it if he stayed in one place like a sensible person, instead of roaming. He's very hard to track down."

Neuman rolled over, presenting his backside to me. "Sshut up. I want to get ssome ssleep while there'ss sstill light."

I made a face. "Well, you can at least get your big butt away from me!" Neuman didn't answer. Apparently, he'd dropped right off.

Standing up, I jumped off the roof to land in a crouch on the floor below. "Bangaa. For heaven's sake. Lizards at heart, every single one of them. Sun hogs." Still grumbling, I headed inside, feeling that it was way too cold actually in the inn.

"Hey, Llednar!" I turned. Shara was jogging up to meet me. "There you are. I've been looking all over for you!" She shoved one of her long ears out of her face. "I've just gotten the news that Blacksmith Buckles recently left Muscadet. If we want to catch him, we'd better hurry."

I nodded and gathered up Excalibur's shards, then stopped. "Wait... you're coming with me?"

She shrugged. "Well... yeah, if that's okay. I mean... Marche and Ritz are off on some mission around there, that's how I heard... but you know those two. They're just slobbering all over each other, if you know what I mean. I got sick of it."

"Oh." Actually, I had no idea what she meant, but as I didn't want to seem stupid, I just kept my mouth shut. "I guess it's okay. C'mon."

"Llednar..." Something tugged at my sleeve. I looked down. Makoto, with a pouty expression on her face, was standing at my side forlornly.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT. You remember what happened last time, don't you? I don't want you to get hurt, or anyone else for that matter. You'll be safe here in Cyril. Here is where I want you to stay. D'you think you can behave?" She nodded sulkily. "Good. Now, if you want something to do, go wake up Neuman. Shara and I are going to be doing something _dangerous. _You can't come."

Still wearing the pout, Makoto went off outside.

"You're going to have to do some sweet-talking later," Shara observed. I threw her a dirty glare. "Come on. We have to go fast if we want to catch up to Buckles."

---

We set the pace easily--it was an assassin's jog; the swiftest I could go for great amounts of time. Shara, as a viera, kept up without any trouble. She probably could've gone even faster if she wanted to, but we'd decided to go together and it would be stupid to turn this into a race.

The world was a blur of brown and green and patches of golden sunlight; I felt as though my feet barely touched the ground at all. The only sound was the stirring of fallen leaves, and the dizzy rushing sensation of total speed enveloped me. Shara, a few feet to my right, was acting the same way as me.

Eventually, we slowed down, as we'd gotten into the precincts near Muscadet. If we continued on at that pace, we'd probably miss Buckles entirely.

"Tanabata's tomorrow," Shara said conversationally. She wasn't even winded. "Are you guys sticking around for it?"

I shrugged one shoulder and stretched. "Mmm... I dunno. Guess so... we're supposed to be able to stay for a few days--that's what, three to five? And this is our third day back. Marche told me about the festival... here in Ivalice it's s'posed to be really something, isn't it?"

Shara nodded, and her long ears bobbed in the air. "Oh yeah. Of course, I've never seen it in your world either, so I wouldn't know to compare."

"Neither have I. I'm going on opinion." Even as I spoke, a memory started to stir, making my temples itch. Bright colors; tall figures in kimonos and yukata; hearing the story of Orihime and Hikoboshi out of the mouth of an old grandmother speaking to a group of young children. I shook my head. What the heck!

"So what's your wish?" Shara asked conversationally.

"What?"

"Your wish," she repeated. "You know, like you're supposed to write your wish on a slip of paper, then hang it on a sprig of bamboo. Don't you know that?"

I sighed. "Well... I really don't know much about any holiday. It wasn't in my job description, so Remedi didn't really educate me thoroughly. And I just got a brief description out of Marche and Mewt."

"You're avoiding the question," Shara teased. I made a face at her. Suddenly, she turned, all traces of relaxation gone. Her ears stood up perfectly straight.

"You heard something?" I asked, lowering my voice to a whisper. She nodded.

"This way." She stalked velvetly over the ground; though it was littered with tree branches and dead leaves, she didn't make a sound. I tried to imitate her walk--due to my soft leather shoes I was able to keep quiet enough. We were edging up on a lone bangaa who seemed to be burdened with several bags of travel equipment. Buckles. It _had _to be.

"Excuse me, sir," I said steadily. "Would you happen to know a good blacksmith around these parts? I have... a job for one."

"None around here," he replied just as steadily, not even turning. "It's best you turn around and go off somewhere else." Like Eleono, he didn't hiss his S's. It was the final proof.

"I think you're lying." I rushed forward, gripping SaveTheQueen's hilt.

The bangaa didn't even turn, but when I got just close enough to him that I could draw my blade and attack, his fist went out in a vicious backhand that caught me completely by surprise. Before I knew it, I'd been slammed into a nearby tree and was struggling to stay conscious. My vision swam as I tried to breathe through the ache in my chest where I'd been hit.

"Ouch," I said through a harsh breath, trying to stand. "Damn... that hurt..."

"Llednar!" I heard Shara yelp from the rise from which I'd made my attack. "You...!" I heard the whistle of an arrow being fired and the sharp twang of Shara's bowstring. My vision cleared just enough to witness the bangaa stranger calmly catch the arrow between two fingers when it was about an arm's length from his face.

_What the hell? _I thought, baffled. _How can this guy have such skill?_

"Kids," the bangaa said with a snort. "I didn't exactly fall off the turnip cart yesterday, you know. So I assume you're another little posse looking to hire Blacksmith Buckles. You'll have to prove to him that you're worthy of one of his weapons."

I managed to stand up by pulling myself against the tree. This was just plain impossible. Ugh, how were we supposed to win against someone this powerful when I was already half-useless and Shara's arrows were rendered ineffective? I probably could have taken him out with a shot from Omega, but we couldn't close with him or we'd get slaughtered. And besides, where would I find the strength for an attack like that now? Grr. There weren't many options that I could see. We could run away, which only cowards did, or we could get creamed, which only happened to amateurs.

What had I gotten us into this time?

Shara put up another arrow, cursing.

"Don't even try it!" I shouted. "His reflexes are too good!"

Shara seemed to hear me. She slung her bow over her shoulder and sprinted off in another direction. It was a while before I'd realized that she'd vanished completely.

Was she going off to get help? Or did she have some other plan?

"Now, what is so important to you that you have to bother self-respecting travelers for it?" Buckles said calmly, taking a step towards me and speaking levelly. Now I could see that he had the armor of a templar--it was old and worn but still strong.

I sighed. Maybe talking would actually help for once. "I got someone's sword broken really badly, and I have to get it reforged no matter what. I heard that you were the best, so I came to you."

"No matter how often you say you've retired..." Buckles shrugged. "Well, you still have to prove yourself to me, boy."

Shit. But all the same, what was I expecting with _my _social skills? I managed to stumble into a guard-ready position, muttering strings of curses under my breath.

"Don't kid yourself, boy. You can barely move without being dizzy." Buckles was still irritatingly calm. It made me want to punch him. "You're beaten."

I replied with a word I'd learned from Ritz. "That's what you think."

A glitter in the tree right behind Buckles drew my attention, but I fought not to show it. In two seconds and a whistling scream, a trio of arrows buried themselves in Buckles' back, right between his shoulderblades and exactly in a gap between armor plates, in a bloody spray. The bangaa used a colorful term (one that I'd have to keep in mind for later) to describe the pain and whirled.

Shara appeared for a split second before leaping from the tree and vanishing with a little ripple once again. I used the opportunity to sprint off. I understood now--she was using her sniper's Conceal ability to maintain invisibility for certain periods of time.

"You can only hide for so long," Buckles warned her in a grunt. I cursed mentally again; if the blacksmith was actually listening to make sure of her position, Shara was in deep trouble. I began to gather power into my blade, mentally running through my energy-focus incantation. It was slower than usual, but that was still to be expected, as my power had been depleted in the first place.

_Oh God, please, gods, _I thought frantically, _let this work._

"Got you!" Buckles roared, whipping a wicked spear from a travel kit. Shara was startled out of her invisibility and leaped backwards.

I lunged, praying to every deity I knew that this would work. Otherwise both Shara and I were dead. As I felt all my remaining physical strength stream through my right hand into my sword, I channelled all my magic into my left palm; focusing in a ball of sickly green light there. Almost every ounce of my strength was going into this--the only thing carrying me forward was momentum.

I let out a wild cry as I sliced Buckles' back open with my Omega-charged sword. I shoved my other hand forward and released my magic in one last Abyss. My momentum carried me a few more feet forward; then I collapsed into a half-curl in the litter of grass and leaves.

Buckles shifted and stood, looking groggy. "Thought you'd got me, didn't you?" he said in a gasp. An arrow sprouted from his chest; no doubt Shara's doing. He yelped slightly, looking at it exhaustedly.

_Please, please, please let that be it, _I thought wearily as I heard Shara's empty quiver fall to the ground while she sank to her knees beside me. _We're out of arrows and I just don't have anything left._

But Buckles--the damned guy just wouldn't quit! He staggered up again, and I cursed under my breath, imitating that colorful phrase he'd spoken just a while ago.

As my vision dimmed and darkened, I saw two blurred forms come down on Buckles' back like a pair of wolves on the fold. One was muddied blue and yellow; the other pink and white.

---

"Llednar..."

I groaned. I ached all over; surely she'd let me sleep...!

"Llednaaaaaaaar..."

I pretended I didn't notice. She'd have the decency to let sleepers lie, right?

I was treated to a boot in my behind. "WAKE UP, DAMMIT!"

I opened one eye and glared blearily at Ritz. "Will you shut up?" I whined. "I just got the crap beat out of me!"

"You've slept LONG ENOUGH!" she snapped, furious. "Get off your butt and come see your sword! You made Shara worry about you!"

Marche sidled into my vision. "Come on, Ritz," he said meekly. "I'm sure he'll get up soon enough." He pushed her off gently and said, "I think she's got PMS" to me as they went.

"Mmmmph." I sat up and shook my head. We were still in the forest, though a tent was pitched nearby and a fire roared somewhere behind me. Buckles was suddenly looming above me, offering me a giant hand.

I took it, and the bangaa levered me up. "Congratulatious," he roared, whacking me on the shoulder. "You and your friends here actually beat me!"

"Beat...?" I wondered out loud. Looking at Marche and Ritz, the answer was obvious. "Oh."

"And that sword? It was a real mess, but we've got it covered," Buckles continued, absurdly cheerful. "Come and take a look!"

Excalibur lay on an anvil, the tip of the blade still glowing hot. Every shard was present, but a bright vein of mysidia wove through the cracks like glue, forming a film over the entire sword.

"I'd like to see someone break that little beauty again," Buckles said happily. "Though you truly did put it through its paces!"

I sighed in relief. So I hadn't let Gelarto down after all. "Thank you, sir. That was really important to us."

Off on the other side of camp, I heard Shara speak. "So, did you two meet that minstrel?"

"Yeah. He gave us this." I peeked over my shoulder. Marche was holding up one work of art of a violin. It was crafted from some kind of black wood and glittered like a dark molten star. "I haven't any idea what the use is, though. We don't have any clan members who can use instruments."

Leaving Buckles to tend the sword, I hobbled over to them. "Let me see," I said, holding out a hand for that beauteous thing. Marche blinked at me, then forked it over. Ritz handed me the bow, which was made of the same wood and threaded with the finest black horsehair.

The feel of the instrument was familiar in my hands. I plucked each string and noted that it was also finely in tune. _Oh, you pretty, pretty thing, _I thought giddily. _Well, Lune, I'm going to give it a try._

I lifted the violin to my shoulder and set the bow on the strings, taking a deep breath. _Maybe I've just gotten a little closer to finding out who I really am._


	12. Tanabata Night

Shadowed Heart--Part 12

see disclaimer in Part 8

Author's Note: I've been asked several times why this story disappeared, and I figure I'd better tell you now. You may remember the large server crash that occurred early this year... somehow, that seems to have caused the deletion of my former account. I emailed the FF-Net administration _repeatedly _while trying to get an explanation of what the hell was going on, but I didn't get any response. Finally, I had to create a new account (I even had to get a new Hotmail address) so that I would be able to post my stories here.

FF-Net isn't exactly my favorite website, what with the inattentive admins, rampant flamers, and annoying conditions here. But it's the only one I know of that has this system interface that allows us to introduce our writing to others like us. There wasn't anywhere else for me to go, so I came back. I'm happy with the warm reception I've received in the FFTA section, at least.

This time we're at the Tanabata Festival. For those of you who don't already know, Tanabata is a real Japanese festival, taking place on July seventh. I haven't ever been to one, as I live in America, but I'd like to go, once I learn a little more Japanese, am able to read some kanji, and manage to find a decent obi to go with my yukata. Pathetically enough, I own a yukata but don't have any semblance of an obi or any means to bind my chest flat. Oh, well. I can dream.

BTW, I have another story to plug. This time it's "Consequences" by Urby. I've only managed to read the first few chapters because of the new "time regulations" at our public library and a rash of slow loading on but what I've gotten to so far is HILARIOUS. Read the story. You will crack up. Love Star, author of "Stray Ends", likes it too. Read. As soon as you're done with this. (shoves)

You may have noticed that for all Llednar is warming up to Makoto a lot, he's starting to revert to his charming former self. I don't know why this is, but some people who've been complaining that he's out of character should like that. And the promised Battousai moments are coming about two chapters from now, I'm pretty sure. There's still a mission I have to take care of first. But let's say that Llednar has some very good reasons to slice and dice people.

Also, in this chappy, we're going to be hooking Llednar-kun up. I'm so very sorry to disappoint all you Llednar/Lune supporters, but there are going to be a few people who are downright ecstatic because of this. And they will not have one of those weird NC-17 relationships. As I have explained before, Llednar is pretty darn innocent. And he is going to stay that way for a while. He's only thirteen, you sickos!

Here be story. You read now.

---

A shriek cut through the air of the inn, making me sit up sharply and look over my shoulder, pausing in tying my obi.

Tanabata was finally here. Almost everyone else was downstairs, but one of the straps on my waraji (straw sandals that martial artists and ninja wear over their tabi) had broken, and I'd stayed up here to get it fixed, as well as retie my obi belt, which had somehow come loose. I was dressed in a pair of dark blue hakama, and my gi faded from red at the eri to white at the bottom. Daryle had stitched designs similar to those on my normal shirt on the shoulders. ExcaliburII, the improved sword which Buckles had given me, was too bulky to carry around like this, so I had SaveTheQueen stuffed into the obi's side.

"Okay, what happened?" I asked as calmly as I could. Shara, her own obi still half-tied, was swatting at something in the air that was too small for me to see. She looked completely panicked.

"I haaaaaaaaaaate buh-huh-huhhhhgs," she cried as she continued to swat.

I blinked. "Ooookay then. No comment here." I finished tying my obi and stood up, careful to test the tie on my waraji first. It held. Good.

It was still bizarre to see as athletic a girl as Shara wrapped from shoulder to ankle in a yukata. Hers was jade green with a pattern of large sunflowers, and she was wearing a two-toned orange obi that went with it quite well. She also had blue zori with semi-translucent yellow straps, which contrasted with the bright colors in the rest of her dress. There were a few little pink clips in Shara's short hair. All in all, the ensemble was pretty cute. Except for the part about her freaking about some bug.

I walked over, puzzled. A rubbery-looking spider dangling on an almost invisible string was hanging in the air in front of Shara's face (or it would've been, if not for her frantic attempts to kill it). Coming to Shara's side, I reached up and neatly snagged the "bug".

"Calm down." She gave me a fearful look, her blue eyes huge. "It's fake. See?" I squished the toy bug between two fingers to demonstrate, letting it return to its usual shape.

"Um. Oh," the viera said, going bright pink.

I tugged on the string and watched as a long, thin black rod that I hadn't noticed before bobbed in the air. It was slanted and came down behind a nearby couch.

"Doned! GET OUT HERE!" I snapped. The boy squeaked and peeped out over the top of the loveseat. "That was a really mean trick!"

"All right, what did he do this time!" Marche snapped, stomping into the room. He looked more than a little irritable, which was understandable, as Doned had been pulling things like this for a while now. He wore bright crimson hakama and a cloud-blue gi, and he looked much more traditional than I did. Following him was Ritz, who seemed almost gentle in her classically patterned yukata, which was light blue with violet flowers printed at the bottom and shoulders. (Almost.)

I tugged the string once more. What with Shara bright red and Doned pitch white, the situation was pretty easy to guess.

"Doned, you idiot," Marche groaned. "You know that Shara's afraid of bugs! To take advantage of the way she feels is _bullying. _You know how much you hate it when people bully you!"

Ritz went over and punched Doned in the head. "And it's really mean, considering _why _she hates them. Shara is allergic to bee stings and spider bites. Not only that, but she had some very bad experiences with a certain larva as a little girl. You, Doned, are being a grade-A certified creep. Now either come with me or I'll let Llednar cream you."

I suddenly realized that creaming Doned _was _what I'd wanted to do. But why? I'd normally never consider doing such a thing to someone younger than me. How much offense had I taken on Shara's behalf?

I shook my head over girls once again and touched Shara lightly on the shoulder. "Come on. Everybody else is downstairs and I don't think you need to get any redder." She was literally cringing with humiliation, and her ears curled downwards in shame, almost as if she would hide her face with them. Meekly, she let me drag her along into the celebration.

"PARTYYYYYY!"

"OW!"

Makoto had tackled me, and I fell into Shara's arms--she collapsed onto the stairs. With both of the girls giggling their fool heads off, I resigned myself to a sigh and a little laugh. Makoto was also in a yukata, a dark blue one patterned with white bamboo leaves and talisman kanji. Her obi was bright yellow silk and patterned with daisies. She really did look like a cute little sister, especially with her hair neatly braided (most likely by Miserie or Daryle), and I couldn't resist laughing along with her.

"Let's go buy sparklers," she begged. "Please, can we, Llednar? Please, please, please?"

"Okay, okay," I replied, struggling to stop laughing. "Get off me so that I can actually get up first. You want to come too, Shara?" Makoto, still giggling, hopped off, and I sat up. Shara did as well.

"Oh, uh, sure." She looked at me with a strange expression. Was she blushing again? "Any reason...?"

I shook my head, letting my hair fly. "No. It's just, I think you might want to get away from Doned for a while. He's being such a little creep these days."

"Oh..." Shara blinked at me.

"Come oooooonn," Makoto whined, tugging at my sleeve. "The booth is over there!" She pointed out the door to the inn enthusiastically.

"We're coming, we're coming. Don't rip it," I said in return.

The three of us headed off--Makoto doing a happy little wiggle dance out in front, me trying not to laugh in the middle, and Shara looking around in back. On the way, we saw lots of pretty much everybody.

Babus and--who would've thought?--Neuman were sitting at a table in front of the inn, in serious discussion over a glass of sake. Ezel was playing cards with Montblanc, Nono, and a few people from another clan that I didn't know. Ellen, the viera from the weaponry shop in Muscadet, was chattering with Miserie as though the pair were old buddies. I even saw Buckles, the supposed recluse, at a booth selling little metal trinkets, deep in conversation with another bangaa and a human who had stopped by. Both, by the look of them, were other blacksmiths.

Eleono was over with a crowd of other highly-bred bangaa, who looked as though they were getting ready to participate in the sparring bouts being staged in the center of the town. Daryle and a few of her fellow assassins and ninjas were in a circle, tossing a bladed fan and several shuriken and kunai to each other, as though it were some great game. Daryle was actually laughing. And right beside her in the circle was Roland. Out of nowhere, after he tossed a knife, he leaned over and pecked her on the cheek.

I was so busy staring at them while I walked that I brushed shoulders with someone else, causing that person to stumble. Immediately, I bowed deeply, my face glowing scarlet. "I am so sorry," I said as quickly as I could. "That was so stupid of me... are you okay?"

"Well, if this isn't a surprise!" came a familiar female voice above me. I froze, feeling my blood turn to ice in my veins. "My little biskmatar, on the night of a celebration." No way. No way, no way, no way...

Against my will, I looked up at the kimono-clad figure I had jostled, into the amused sapphire eyes of Queen Remedi.

She was looking extremely elegant tonight, as always--unlike the other girls and women at the festival, she was decked out in full furisode kimono, probably with a few others layered under the one she was wearing. Her sleek light-brown hair was tied back in a ponytail, as usual, but tonight it seemed to take on a special glow. Her cold crystal-blue eyes were lined with periwinkle eye shadow, making her seem more frosty than ever. The tattoo of the glaring red eye on her forehead proclaimed to any idiot who hadn't seen her before that she was royalty.

I took two stumbling steps back and bowed again.

"Why so shy?" she asked almost coyly. "You don't seem your usual self at all. Has moving between worlds truly changed you so much?"

"I-I didn't expect to see you here, my lady," I said, still not lifting my eyes from the ground and the bottoms of her geta.

She laughed. It had the sound of ice daggers and made my hair stand on end. "Come, come. I have been expecting you, little Llednar. I guessed that Mewt would probably bring you along when he came back here."

I still did not move. That artifically honey-sweet voice reawoke the dread that had been gone so long from my life. I was expecting attack at any time--and once again, I wouldn't be able to defend myself. Not from Remedi... not from the woman who gave me life.

"All I require in return for saving you is a match," Remedi said coolly. "Join me in half an hour at the ring. It shall be a bout with swords... I wish to see how you've improved. Half an hour, Llednar... don't be late." She walked off, and I could breathe again.

The next thing I knew, Shara was shaking my shoulder. "Llednar, are you alright? You look like you just saw something that scared you to death."

I closed my eyes and swallowed sharply. "God. I just got a challenge from the queen."

Shara gasped. _"What?"_

"She challenged me to a sword fight, where the bouts are being held... My God, what does she want with me now?" I sank to my knees in shock and curled up into a ball. I could see my breath misting in the air before me. I felt chilled, straight to the bone. Terror. It was an old sensation, one I hated.

"Llednar? Oniichan?"

It was Makoto. She and Shara were both kneeling beside me, looking worried.

I shook my head. A few stray strands of hair fell into my face and I brushed them away. "I... I'll be okay. I think. God. I know I'm underage, but... God. I need something to drink."

I felt firm hands on my back. "You must be truly desperate if you wish to take my road," came Babus' voice from behind me. "Come, all three of you... I'll get you cider if you tell me what's happened."

I stood up gratefully and followed Babus, with the girls trailing behind me. Cider actually sounded good right now. At least he wasn't going to take me up on my thoughtless request for sake. I had no intention of becoming a drunk like him.

---

"...So she just requested a fight and walked away?" Shara asked, raising her mug to her lips.

I nodded. "Yeah. But I can't figure out what it is she's after now. I'm protecting Mewt like she wants, and I'm not in her face all the time, which she certainly didn't want."

Babus nodded slowly. "But in a trial bout like the one she asked of you, no one is allowed to injure another. They'd be disqualified. You don't have to be afraid of getting any more scars."

Shara and Makoto stared at me. I ran a hand through my hair and wished that Babus could've kept his idiot mouth shut.

"They don't know about that," I said through gritted teeth. "I'd like to keep things that way."

The nu mou shrugged and poured himself more sake. "Your choice. But this is a very good opportunity she's given you."

We all stared at him. "What?"

"You have the chance to ask her about the political tides, my boy," he explained calmly. "Perhaps even to ask her of why Makoto-kun is being persecuted. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, but..." I couldn't help being confused.

"Perhaps that is even why she let you run into her in the first place."

I'd forgotten the fact that Babus thought the sun shone out of the queen's rear end. "Well, whatever, I'll ask, but I don't expect any answers out of her."

"Llednar..." Makoto tugged my sleeve again.

"Yes?"

"Since your fight is in half an hour, does that mean that we still have time to go buy sparklers?"

We all laughed.

---

I sat on the bench and tried to keep my breathing regular, shivering despite myself. I had spent the past twenty-five minutes with the girls and Babus and sparklers and sake and cider. Now I was waiting for Remedi to show, in solitude before the match.

The rice-paper door to my right slid open, and I turned just as Shara sat down beside me.

For a moment we just stared at each other, then Shara pinked and looked down at her hands. "Just don't... don't get killed."

I didn't have anything to say to that.

"Babus-san told me everything that the queen did to you in the past." Silence for a few moments. "I asked him until he finally spilled. I can't believe that... I never thought that the ruler of our country could possibly be so cruel." More silence. "A-are... are you angry with me for wanting to know?"

I slowly shook my head. "No... I should be, but I'm not. I guess I couldn't hide my history forever, even if I truly wanted to."

Shara touched my shoulder lightly, almost as if she was afraid that she'd either hurt me or I'd bite her hand off. "Well... um... good... good luck. I'll be cheering for you." The touch was followed up by a brief, tentative pat, and then she'd retreated off, presumably to the stands.

I blinked, utterly confused. What was going on here?

I didn't have long to ponder, however, as the herald announcing the fights called my name. I started feeling weak and shaky all over as I walked out to join him in the ring, sweat making my skin chill and my hair prickle. Opportune chance as Babus claimed or yet another round of punishment as I suspected, I was not looking forward to this at all.

The herald handed the queen and myself our regulation wooden swords and explained the rules. No blood, of course, and no fighting with anything but these swords. Our normal weapons had been duly confiscated before the round, and I hoped that Remedi wasn't hiding something for later. If one of us was knocked outside the ring, the other would win, and if a sword was dropped, the one who still held his or her weapon would be declared a default winner. If the fight lasted for more than two minutes, we would be judged on the prowess we showed, and in case of a tie, we'd both be given a small reward in gil.

We took our positions, and the whistle was blown.

Do or die...

Remedi lunged at me, and I just barely leaped to the side, blocking her strike with the "blade" of my sword. My heart hammered as I skipped back and danced out of her reach, and jolted unwelcomely as she fluidly followed me.

As we traded blows, I gradually forgot my previous nervousness. Remedi took the rules of the fight seriously; if she'd wanted to hurt me, she'd have done it already, and she probably wouldn't want to reveal her crueler side in public anyway. She was good, and she wasn't one to go about proving her skill by thrashing a kid like me.

"What's going on in the palace these days?" I asked as we traded strikes and skipped away.

Remedi smiled mysteriously and shrugged. "The usual."

"But it's not," I reminded her. "There's something you aren't in control of there."

She just smiled again. "And what would that be?"

"The Ruchida persecution. Don't play stupid. How everything was done? It just isn't your style. I know... better than anyone..." We traded another set of blows. Remedi's expression remained coolly calm and callously innocent; the expression of a satisfied cat asked about the disappearance of a pet gerbil. "So who's in control besides you?"

"Foolish child," she scolded, her voice almost gentle. Instead of reassuring me like it should've, it made my hackles rise. "Have you heard nothing of the new senate?"

"Senate?" I blinked. "What's a senate?"

Remedi took a fluid leap towards me with her sword, but I saw her coming and skidded out of the way. "A group of fuddy-duddy old nu mou who oppose almost everything I say. Ask Babus; he'll explain it to you. The point is that they've overruled me this time, and I've decided to see how they handle it when they haven't got my brains and brawn behind them. If they botch things, well, I'll be able to reassume control of the country, and if not, I have to find some other way to be rid of them, perhaps a less legal method."

"Oh." I didn't really understand, but she'd had the excuse and she didn't seem to need to think about it. Perhaps that _was _what was going on. Still, I wasn't entirely sure...

A whistle was blown, and I was unwelcomely jerked out of my reverie. Blinking, I listened as my match with the queen was declared a draw and a pouch of fifteen hundred gil was placed in my hand. When I looked, Remedi was already walking away.

People pounded me on the back and congratulated me for holding my own and being able to stand against the queen. They had no idea--if she'd truly wanted something from me, wanted to destroy me even, I wouldn't have been able to resist. We'd had a draw because she didn't want to beat me up, that was all.

Walking down the streets of chattering people and brooding, I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up. It was Shara.

"Um... can I talk to you alone for a minute?" she asked, pinker even than before.

Puzzled, I nodded. We headed over to the fringes of town, to where booths had been shut down and the largest source of light was the stars.

"I was really afraid for you," Shara said softly, her eyes large and liquid. "I had no idea how afraid I was until Queen Remedi attacked you, until she..." She shook her head, and her soft white hair flipped into her face, catching the starlight and giving her a pale and angelic look. "What I mean to say is... Llednar, I..." She took a deep breath and looked down at me. "There's something I need to do."

She leaned forward, our lips met, and my world tilted crazily before shattering into thousands of tiny pieces.

Until that moment, I hadn't known that a kiss could be so, so, so... so soft, so sweet, so... I could never describe it if I lived to be a million years old. But I knew in the deepest part of my heart that somehow I'd been waiting for this my whole life.

Shara pulled back, suddenly shy. I blinked up at her (strange, that she was taller than me--I'd forgotten that fact during that momentous kiss that'd knocked me clean off my feet as far as common knowledge went), promptly turned crimson, and laughed nervously with her.

It was strange and new. But who would have thought? I liked it.

Sure, Shara was pretty and strong and smart, but she also cared about me. About _ME! _Me, Llednar Twem, designated misfit, even though I had no idea who I really was, which world I came from, or what the truth was. She cared about me. And that's why I liked her so much.

We walked side by side back towards the celebration, not touching but still together, still a part of each other.

I'd decided that I knew what to wish for when it came time to hang up my parchment.


	13. The Wanderer

Shadowed Heart--Part 13

(see disclaimer in Part 8)

Author's Note: How big of a shocker was my hooking Llednar-kun up with Shara? I know that a LOT of you were expecting him to go with Lune, but she's already got her designated boyfriend... whoops. Shouldn't've told you that. Oh, well, like it makes any difference... (grins evilly). And how well did I do with coordinating people's outfits to their personalities? That is technically what you're supposed to do with traditional Japanese outfits. Body type plays a large role too. I actually drew out a scene involving everyone in costume, and it seemed to work out okay, but I would like your opinions as well.

OMG! Remedi isn't being a nasty bastage! Don't worry, I hate her too much for her to have a total personality revamp.

The Battousai moments ARE COMING... like next chapter, if I can just remember the transition I was gonna use. Goldang it. Hehe... (sweatdrop) Sorry about that, and for the delay. I've gotta keep working! We're starting to get to the turning point of the second saga! Hope you like it!

BTW, in your spare time, you need to go read some of my other fics. I've got like eight billion FF:U stories going, since the admins FINALLY put up the damn subtopic, some various one-shots under Gundam Seed and Fullmetal Alchemist, a Sword of Mana fic that I've just started to repost, and my other FFTA stories... White Sakura, Biskmatar, and Revenge. WS will explain the story behind Roland's already knowing Llednar, as mentioned in Chapter 7; Biskmatar is a little ficlet about the origin of the biskmatar class; Revenge is a special retelling of the Weaver missions. As it takes place after Shadowed Heart, there may be some mild-to-moderate spoilers for later stories... hehehe. I'm still working on the second chapter of that, so you'll have to wait a while before it gets posted. And those of you familiar with Phantom of the Opera might like my humorous little one-shot for it. Go! Read! Review! I orderest thee!

Okay! On with the story! Tonberries are evil.

---

I yawned and sat up stiffly, blinking in the early-morning light and wincing at the mess all over my room. My outfit from last night was strewn across the floor, along with half-burned sparklers, dead flowers, weaponry, and all sorts of other things. I was not looking forward to picking that up later. Oh, well. It could wait until after breakfast. Maybe.

I dressed myself, not bothering to put on armor or my hat, and headed downstairs. Only when I'd almost gotten to the inn's main chambers did I notice the eerie silence. At this time of morning, the barroom should be filled with the happy bustle of clanners and townspeople going about their business and giving themselves their wake-up shots. There was a subdued mutter, but that was all.

Peeking into the room, I realized that only my own clan was present, which accounted for the quietness. Everyone also seemed to be unusually downcast. Marche and Ritz were sitting at the bar and talking to the pubmaster. Ritz had her face in her hands and Marche's arm was slung awkwardly over her shoulders. Doned, Nono, and Montblanc were sitting by each other, shaking their heads mournfully. Ezel and Babus were at a table together, both in identical black moods. Daryle, openly weeping, was curled up with Roland, who was halfheartedly trying to soothe her. Eleono glared daggers at the wall, Mewt absently swilled the dregs of what looked like tea or cider with a straw, Miserie leaned into Neuman's side, and Shara paced around the floor, growling to herself. When she saw me, her eyes widened, and she ran to me, unexpectedly flinging her arms about me.

"Dammit..." she sobbed dryly into my hair. Uneasily, I put my hand on her back.

"Uh... what happened...?" I asked, very disoriented.

Shara just shook her head and pulled me over to the others, explaining as she went. "A messenger from Muscadet just arrived, giving a warning to all clans. A wandering fencer was murdered late last night."

_Murder. _The word sent a cold ripple down my back, causing my hair to stand on end. "Wha-what! How could something like that happen!"

Shara bid me sit down, which I did, and pulled up a few glasses of berry cordial for us. I sipped while I listened; the drink had a peculiarly fizzy, heady taste to it that was powerfully attracting. "Someone sent a bunch of Tonberries after her; only they would carry knives like the ones that inflicted her wounds. Unless the monsters and the murderer are rounded up, the blame's going to fall on a Rukavi who lives around there, Zagato. You know how people are around here."

I grimaced; I knew well how people were. "Are there good people out on the trail there?"

Shara shook her head. "They've got detectives working to catch the killer, but they need clanners to get ahold of those damn monsters. I've already put my name on the list. It's just sickening that something like this would happen in these times."

Ritz looked up, her green eyes smoldering. "I'm going too. It's despicable--not just the crime, but the way that the poor young man out there is going to get the axe unless somebody does something. I hate, hate, hate prejudice. My conscience can't rest unless I do something."

I nodded. "Then I'm going too. I've seen enough violence for one life, and I wanna get the jerks who think they can pin this all on some innocent guy just cause he's a Rukavi. Grr... makes me mad!"

Marche nodded sorrowfully. "I was going to go, too, but I think you've got more reason to," he told us. "You'd better get over there, then..."

I nodded again, and went to get my things. This was not going to be a fun trip.

---

When Shara, Ritz, and I were barely out of the inn, I heard someone coming up behind us. Predictably, it was Makoto.

However, she seemed a little different than before. A leather lace-up jerkin was tightly tied over her dress, and leather gauntlets and knee braces had also been equipped.

None of us said anything for a while.

"Take me with you!" Makoto finally insisted.

Ritz shook her head, her graceful white hair fanning out around her. "No. I'm sorry, but it's too dangerous to take you along, and... it's not a sight for a kid to see anyway."

Makoto shook her head. "No! I can't just sit by and let this happen! Leiah was a good person, and I can't ignore her death! I... I want to fight the ones that did this to her... I wanna help!"

Ritz and Shara looked at each other, and I saw the answer forming in their eyes before they spoke. So I interrupted them.

"Let her come." They both stared. "I think... I think Makoto will be more help than you'd expect. She _is _a summoner, after all. And we can't protect her forever."

Shara's eyes softened, and Ritz shrugged restlessly. Smiling with relief, I took Makoto's hand and squeezed gently. "Don't worry, Makoto-kun. We'll take you. I believe you that you can help."

We headed off again.

---

I don't know what it was I was expecting, but it certainly was not what I found.

Muscadet was almost entirely locked down. Everyone was terrified of being turned into the next victim, and so they all were in hiding. I felt cold anger beginning to eat at my insides as I let the injustice of it boil in my blood.

I was so busy fuming that I almost didn't notice the sweep of an orange-brown cloak around the edge of a large tree branch. Even if I hadn't seen it, Makoto's squeak alerted me to the truth of things.

I drew both my swords. "There! It's one of those damn Tonberries! Don't let it get away!"

Ritz flew forward with unbelievable speed, unsheathing her katana as she went. The Tonberry I'd seen realized that she was coming and tried to get out of her way, to no avail. Its head went flying before I was able to blink.

Makoto pointed to another brief flash of movement. "Behind that building!"

This time, Shara darted off to deal with the offending creature. Like Makoto, I found that I knew somehow that there were more Tonberries around. I scanned the square we were in for more of the beasts, unsure of where one would next appear.

And suddenly, there was a sharp, angry pain in my side. I gasped as my vision swam and I felt a great deal of my strength draining from my body. Unable to do anything else, I collapsed.

There was a shriek, presumably from Makoto, and a breath of cold, followed by a Tonberry squeal. The next thing I knew, there was a soft, bright light before me, and I could see again, and just barely stand up.

Makoto was standing beside me with her palm outstretched--it looked like she'd just completed a Summon, which explained the cold and how quickly I'd been healed. There was still blood streaming down my side from the place the Tonberry had stabbed me, but I was able to move again, at least. "Thanks," I said with a little surprise.

Makoto shook her head. "You shouldn't be standing yet!"

I tightened my grip on my swords' hilts. "I can't sit out this fight, Makoto-kun. I'm going to be out there whether I should or shouldn't be, you know that."

More Tonberries had appeared where the others had fallen; Ritz and Shara were on the verge of being surrounded. Well, not for long, if _I _had anything to say about it. I launched myself forward, slicing through the last rank of those who were converging on the girls with a neat spiral technique Marche had shown me. Shara yelled, happy that I was back up, and sent a pair of wicked-looking longbow bolts into a nearby Tonberry's throat. I didn't envy the thing as it squeaked and pitched backwards, quite dead indeed. Ritz took this as her cue to tear through the five Tonberries that were still standing. On the last one, she whipped back her blade, gathered a brief spasm of power, and ran it through, causing my eyebrows at least to rise. It was similar enough to my Omega technique to make me look twice.

Seeing my curiosity, Ritz shrugged nonchalantly and sheathed her blade. "It's an assassin's attack, Ultima Masher. It's handy in a tight spot, let me tell you."

I whistled appreciatively. Ultima techniques were just a little less powerful than my Omega, and took an excruciating amount of time to learn. "You're awesome, you know that?"

Shara laughed. "Well, Marche needs someone awesome to watch _his _back sometimes. You know?" Ritz turned a brilliant crimson, but joined in the good-natured chuckling. The euphoric sense of a job well done could be powerfully influencing, even on someone who was annoyed.

There was a sudden flash of lightning, and a yelp that sounded like a Tonberry's, but not. We whirled in the direction of the attack to see a very charred-looking Masterberry scurrying off.

Makoto was a few feet from us, pointing at the monster with an angry, judgmental look on her face, adorable in child's features. "Be more careful," she chided.

"Yes, Mother dearest," I said exhaustedly. "Hadn't we better be after it, then?"

There was the sudden swish of a knife being thrown and a squeal from the retreating monster, who dropped dead where it stood.

"No need," said a casual female voice. Its source, a lithe-looking moogle, came sauntering in, looking very satisfied.

I looked her over, deciding instantly that I liked her. She was dressed in a long, striped woolen shirt and a light purple overcoat, with no-nonsense leather breeches and shoes. Fingerless gloves covered her paw-hands, both of which toyed with knives. A tattered bandanna the same color as her coat was tied around her head as a hat, and both of her ears were pierced with several gold rings and amethyst studs. Her fur was white, tipped black at her ears, and her eyes were a laughing deep violet. Her wings and the little puff held above her head were both black, and her expression was one of badly concealed mischief.

"Thanks," Ritz said with a grin. "Who might you be?"

The moogle bowed to us. "Chelney Nan, at your service. I was on clean-up crew. And you?"

"Ritz Malbeur. This is my shieldsister Shara, and my friends Llednar and Makoto. We were on clean-up too. What's up?"

Chelney grimaced. "They caught the guy that sent the monsters, but it was too late."

Ritz frowned. I looked from face to face, confused. "Meaning...?"

"That accused Rukavi, wotsisname... Zagato, yeah... he already fell on the knife." All of us winced. 'Fell on the knife' was hunter slang for committing suicide. "Left a note in his own blood about how he couldn't stand being accused for Leiah's death, as he loved her too much, and was going off to a fairer place to join her. Poor chum."

Ritz nodded, her emerald eyes sad.

"What's even worse is that the guy who sent those Tonberries... was on the Royal Senate." Chelney's voice got hushed with the force of her words as she headed over to us. "They've really botched things up this time. Apparently someone up top thought Leiah had something to do with how the little Ruchida girl escaped." Makoto went stiff beside me. "The Queen's in a bloody temper now. I'd really hate to be the idiots who screwed things up this time."

I nodded fervently in agreement. "You can say that again. I've been on her bad side before and it's not very fun at all."

Shara grimaced and put a hand on my shoulder, probably remembering whatever Babus had told her about me. I made a mental note to ask the nu mou about exactly how much information he'd imparted.

Chelney stared at us, tilting her head a little. "You... aren't you from Clan Dragon?"

Ritz nodded. "Yeah... why?"

The little moogle shrugged. "I can be useful--very useful. You may not have heard of me, but in Baguba I have a bit of a reputation for being able to take on any odd job, as well as for being... well... a bit of a pickpocket." That explained her attire. "I've been a solo mercenary for a long time, but now I'm getting to like working in groups. So I've come asking--can I join the clan?"

Ritz blinked, and we all looked at each other. "Wow. We haven't gotten any voluntary newcomers since... well, since Babus and Ezel showed up I think." I scowled. "Well, Marche didn't give you too much choice in the matter, now did he?" I shook my head, grinning at the memory. "Well... I suppose so. After all, we're nowhere near max capacity. But be warned, Chelney... we tend to get ourselves into trouble a lot."

Chelney shrugged. "Trouble's interesting. Sitting on your bum isn't."

Shara leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Besides, don't you think Montblanc's getting lonely as a bachelor these days, now everyone's got a significant other?" I laughed out loud, though I definitely saw her point.

"We'd best be getting back then, shouldn't we?" Ritz said, eyeing Shara and me with suspicion. We began to set off towards the exit of town, ready to head back to Cyril.

I'd been trying to ignore my lightheadedness for a while, but I began to find I no longer could as I staggered in the middle of my walk, watching the world blur before my eyes. Unable even to cry out, I pitched sideways, hitting the ground hard before I passed out.

---

When I came to, I was firmly tucked into my bed at the Prancing Chocobo with an anxious-looking Marche, Mewt, and Shara on one side of me and a glowering Roland on the other. Makoto was plunked into a chair nearby, asleep.

"Whaa...?" I said intelligently, drawing their attention to the fact that I was awake.

Before I knew it, Roland was up and raving. "Of all people, Llednar! Of all people! YOU! Stabbed by a TONBERRY! I quite honestly thought you had more sense than that! As a biskmatar, you're EXPECTED to know the basic rules of combat--like, maybe STAY ON YOUR GUARD, and oh yes, PROTECT YOUR REAR, and LOOK AROUND--could've gotten yourself killed--"

I looked at my other friends helplessly. "Er... did I do something wrong...?"

Marche laughed a little. "No, not really. How were you to know that thing was sneaking up on you? Tonberries can be very quiet if they need to be."

By now my face was crimson with shame. "How long've I been out?"

Shara shook her head. "About a week."

I tried to sit up, wide-eyed with alarm. "A _week! _From simple blood loss?"

Mewt shook his head, his smoky-blue eyes cloudy with worry as he pushed me back. "No, Llednar... the weapon you were stabbed with was poison-tipped. It kept your blood from clotting naturally, so you lost a lot--that's why Roland is still here taking care of you. You still haven't fully recovered, so you need to take it easy for a while. Okay?"

I sighed, feigning disappointment. "Oh, all _right, _if you _say _so."

Roland glared at me. "Take this seriously, Llednar. If you force yourself into activity too soon, you are going to make yourself _extremely _sick. I'm going to have to stay here for a while to make sure you don't do anything too quickly, like _sitting up. _You should be sleeping."

I winced away from him. "Okay, okay... jeez, you're scary..."

Roland sighed and ruffled my hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I haven't had much sleep lately, so I'm a little irritable. You'll have to excuse me."

My eyelids felt very heavy. "N-no, it's okay." I rolled to my side. "I think maybe it's my naptime. You get some rest too, Mother."

The last thing I heard before I went unconscious again was Roland telling the others to clear out and take Makoto with them, and Shara feebly protesting.

---

Over the next few days, my condition rapidly improved, and I started sleeping less and boring Roland to death with my constant questions about how things were going with the others. Slowly, my blue mage companion allowed me to sit up, get out of bed, and walk around. I'd just finally been allowed downstairs when it happened.

It was a really nice morning, and my constant supervisor was making me drink a peppery, scalding tea which wasn't really bad when you got used to it. According to Roland, it was going to help me build up my blood-cell count again, and would be giving me other remedies as well, just in case I needed them. Some of the others were strewn around the pub, chattering to each other. To my great amusement, as well as Shara's, Montblanc and Chelney were sitting together and talking over coffee. Chelney seemed to be genuinely interested in the mog knight, and Montblanc didn't seem to know how he was supposed to react.

Out of nowhere, the doors burst open, and Miserie flew in, looking exhausted but frightened, with her hair in total disarray and her clothes windblown. "It was... Bervenian soldiers...! They came out of nowhere, and... they've... got Makoto!"

I leaped off my bar stool, throwing common sense to the winds. "WHAT! When was this!"

Miserie shook her head, her eyes wild. "A few minutes ago... there were too many of them, I couldn't do a thing! And Makoto..."

I cursed and started towards the door. "Are they taking her back to Bervenia?"

Miserie nodded. "Of course. I suppose they're trying to get back into the queen's favor after their big screw-up... damn. You'd better hurry, Llednar..."

I swore vibrantly. "Oh, they're going to be in for it when I get my hands on them!"

Roland was behind me, trying to restrain me. "No, you don't! Have you forgotten what I told you about your health! Your condition's still too fragile for you to go running off waving those godscurst swords of yours around!"

I glared at him. "Makoto's life is much more important that my well-being! She's just a little kid, and who knows what those monsters are going to do with her before they kill her!" I tore loose and blasted out of the pub, flying down the streets in a protective shell of anger, hate, and purpose. It was a familiar feeling, one that I couldn't quite place. But I knew that this was only going to end with a death, and it _would not _be mine.


	14. Exodus

Shadowed Heart--Part 14

(see disclaimer in Part 8)

Author's Note: Toldja there'd be Battousai moments coming. Somebody out there is in for it big time, grin grin wink wink. Yes, I have a morbid sense of humor and like killing off random extras. Don't worry. The extras are used to it by now, I think.

There've been a few questions about why exactly Ritz is an assassin. I might as well explain my main-character jobs now. The Ritz in my oldest, most worked on FFTA save has a handful of abilities from every job, and is currently an assassin for real with summoner abilities. She knows every fencer and summoner skill, and yes, she does have the Ultima Masher technique. It took forever for her to learn. I can pretty much put Ritz and maybe Gelarto in a room full of baddies and they'll make short work of the crowd. Marche is a ninja with fighter abilities, as I could not live without giving him Double Sword and just got used to the ninja deal by that point. Mewt is a white mage, because I just can't seem to picture him really harming anyone, and Doned is a thief because he picked Marche's pockets that one time.

My diligent work on my old FFTA save has finally paid off. I HAVE CID! I've heard him described several times as a "human antilaw", and that's not too far from it--he uses Advanced Law skills by tapping the power of Judge Cards! He can destroy your yellow cards when you get them! He can give you some of his JP for no reason at all! He can skip the judge's turn so you can break the law without any penalty! AND HE HAS HIS OWN NINE-MISSION SUBSTORY! (This doesn't count Cleanup Time, the mission you get him in). Okay, so his movement capabilities kind of suck (he's a 3/2 unit like a Paladin), but give him Dash Boots or Peytral or something and it'll fix that.

...Okay, I've run out of random babble. Guess I'd better start writing then, ne? (dodges bricks) Oh, and one last thing: I have the two-disc soundtrack to FFTA! The first disc has all the tracks used in the game except for the transformation-to-Ivalice music, and the second has all the important scene and battle musics done in full orchestra! I've been translating some of the track names, which is DEFINITELY kind of scary that I know the katakana system that well. I also got... well... alright, I'll write, stop glaring at me like that. (sigh) (dodges more bricks)

---

"Llednar, WAIT!"

This time I whirled instead of ignoring the voice behind me. Marche, Ritz, Mewt, and Shara were clustered behind me, having chased me halfway to Bervenia, starting seconds after I'd blown out of the door. I'd paid them little to no heed over my trek, but they were starting to get annoying and didn't they know I had to do this on my own, dammit?

Now that I'd stopped, Marche came up to me and grabbed my shoulders. His face was red and he was panting hard, out of breath. "You cannot go in there alone, do you understand me! That place is damn stocked with guards, and if they catch you they will kill you!"

I curled my lip, not the least intimidated. "I don't care! Makoto is in there, and I am going to get her out even if it costs me my life!"

Ritz now joined Marche. She looked a little less tired than him, as an assassin who often had to travel long distances swiftly. "Which it will cost you if you don't take this rationally, you meathead. With us you've a better chance of getting in and out alive."

I grumbled. All that was well and fine, but...

Mewt came up next to me and placed a hand on my shoulder, sympathy in his smoky eyes. "We all feel responsible for what happened to Makoto-kun," he said softly. "We all have to get her back. In fact... you were bedridden, so you couldn't have helped it, you know."

I grimaced. True, but still...

Shara came up with _that look_ in her sapphire eyes. Uh-oh.

She glared at me, shoved Marche and Ritz aside, then slapped me square across the face. My head snapped to the side, and I winced as my cheek started to sting.

"IDIOT! What d'you think I would end up being left with if you went off and died, huh!" I backed up a step, but she followed me. "You are so INSENSITIVE sometimes! Of course I wanna help you! If I was in the same kind of trouble you're in now, wouldn't you want to help me!"

She had a point.

"So you're going to let us along and you're going to be glad of it, damn you!"

I nodded helplessly. "Okay, okay. But shouldn't we be going sometime soon?"

Shara nodded stiffly and turned on her heel, marched around me, and sprinted off down the road to Bervenia.

Marche shook his head at me. "Welcome to a world of pain," he said very solemnly. Ritz punched him in the back, grinning. "No matter what you've heard before now, it's always the woman in control of a relationship, and they never ever ever let you forget it."

I tilted my face to the sky, took a few seconds to wonder what I'd gotten myself into, then took off after Shara.

---

Unlike what I'd experienced the last time I was in Ivalice, this time around, castle security was downright crappy. Before, the place had always been stocked with guards, and you couldn't so much as sneeze without fifteen or so well-trained bangaa getting twitchy hilt hands. This time, for some reason, there were only a few fighters and paladins around, mostly looking like they were undertrained and total flunkies. Whenever we ran into them, a few good smacks with the flat sides of our blades and/or punches laid them out flat.

What was going on? I wondered as I ran. Remedi would simply not allow things to deteriorate this far. More work of the "senate", no doubt.

I rounded a corner and finally encountered what I'd been expecting: A fully armed, fully trained platoon of templars. I ground to a halt and flipped out my swords, glaring wildly. Marche and Ritz skidded to a halt behind me, and Shara behind them.

We'd all been prepared to brawl, but Mewt came through our ranks and gave the goons his most withering, official I-am-royalty-you-worthless-sons-of-bitches-so-obey-me glare. "These are my friends and escorts and cannot be harmed. Let us through."

With helpless shrugs--after all, they'd been trained to jump when snapped at by any of the royal family--the bangaa put away their weapons and drifted off.

Ritz whistled. "Smooth," she said appreciatively. "Didn't know you had that in you."

Mewt blushed and shook his head sheepishly. "Ah, don't fuss over it. I was just imitating Mom."

I forced myself to laugh, though it didn't really sound whole. "That's the best impression of her I've ever seen." I'd had that look directed at me more times than I liked to recall.

Shara pulled a face. "Come ooooooonnn," she whined, similar enough to Makoto to make me wince. "We've got to _go._"

Marche shrugged and stretched. "The lady's right."

I growled under my breath and took off down the corridor. "Damn..."

We ran some more, ordered more guards out of the way, knocked still more of them out, and beat the crap out of people who wouldn't get out of the way or be knocked out. And finally, we got closer to the throne room.

I burst into the chamber, both swords at the ready, and for once in my life I didn't recoil when I saw Remedi sitting casually on the gilded chair at the other end of the room.

"Where's Makoto!" I demanded, a thick snarl in my voice. Somewhere in the back of my head, I wondered how I'd gotten such courage. "Tell me right now or else!"

Remedi smiled coldly and raised the glass of wine she'd been holding in a mocking toast. "Or else what? Dear child, you are late, are you not?"

I glared. "Tell me where you have her."

The woman shrugged. "Take the passage behind this throne and you'll find the way to where those idiots are playing with her. I don't care what you do--take her off my royal hands if you so desire. I knew what that 'little girl' was as soon as I saw her face-to-face, and I'm not stupid enough to make her angry."

I bowed slightly. "Thank you... but... why are you doing this?"

Remedi laughed. The sound gave me a creeping, uncomfortable, itchy feeling along my spine. "Must I have a reason that you can see? Llednar, you are only a simple biskmatar, after all. If the doll is what you want, take her. The toy soldiers around her can be easily broken. But never forget... you were once such a toy soldier."

Her words made me feel slightly sick, although I didn't understand why, just as I had no idea why she had tortured me so in the past.

Shara and Mewt took my shoulders and steered me away from that calculating gaze, off behind the throne to the path behind.

"That woman gives me the creeps," Shara whispered once we were out of her range of hearing.

"She did more than give me the creeps before," I grumbled. "I'll show you the remnants of my child abuse gallery sometime."

Mewt didn't say anything, just stared at the ground for a while.

"Let's go, please," Ritz snapped from somewhere behind us, and we picked up the pace.

---

And so, finally, we were there.

Beyond the door ahead of us... Makoto was waiting, along with her tormentors.

I took a slow deep breath, unsheathed my swords, and crossed them in an X-figure over my heart. "Dying breath, light my blade and sing in shadow..." Feeling dark power coursing through my blood, I let out a fierce yell and lashed out with all the strength of both swords. The door disintegrated into splinters.

"Nice," Marche commented behind me with a whistle. I smirked. And in the next split second, I lunged forward.

"Alright, where's Makoto!" I blazed at the top of my lungs as my foot hit the ground. "Give her back right now!"

A sudden wave of power rippled through the room, almost knocking me off balance. Shielding my face with my arms and swords, I became aware that a shrill voice in my head was asking if I'd walked in on one of the famed battles between Nallorn and Gaedrian or what. Shaking the voice away, I slowly lowered my arms and gasped at what I saw. (A/N: Nallorn and Gaedrian are characters from a rather obscure short story called "The Graceless Child", and are brothers doomed to fight against each other for eternity. Nallorn represents nightmares and Gaedrian is the patron spirit of dreams. No, I will never stop my shameless plugging. Ever. Sorry.)

Makoto was hovering at the center of the room, her eyes glowing oddly white and her tattered dress fluttering around her. Although she was the same little girl I'd always known, she was also strangely threatening in form. Makoto's tormentors were scattered around her; several were tangled in vines that had apparently just risen out of the floor from nowhere. However, there were still several that were perfectly mobile.

"That does it," I muttered under my breath, gritting my teeth, and dashed forward. The questions I had could be answered later, i.e. after Makoto was safe and all these idiots were safely put away. Ritz flew to my side, and we split, ripping through the still-standing members of the strange clan. Shara armed her bow and began to send bolts into the masses. Mewt cast protection spells on her and Marche, who was just standing there and staring at Makoto as if he'd just realized something important.

As soon as I reached her, Makoto collapsed. Looking up at me, she let out a shrill cry and pointed behind me. "Look out!"

I whirled just in time to knock out a bangaa templar who'd thought he could sneak up behind me. Blinking at his unconscious body, I realized that he'd been one of the men tangled within the vines Makoto seemed to have conjured. "What the...?"

"I can't hold them for very long!" Makoto wept. "I'm sorry, everyone!"

Swearing under my breath, I continued to twist around. If Makoto's captives could break free at any time, then we were hopelessly outnumbered.

Ritz, Mewt, Shara, and Marche were suddenly beside me. "What the hell is going on here?" Ritz hissed to me.

"We're in deep crap," I replied softly.

"No shit, Sherlock," Ritz spat back. "Now how will we get _out _of deep crap?"

"Pray to whatever deity might be listening?" Shara suggested, shooting an advancing nu mou straight in the chest.

Mewt shook his head. "This isn't going to get anywhere," he told us, and struck the butt of his staff against the ground. His body seemed to glow for an instant, and then everything went black.

---

Able to see again, I blinked. Every guard around us was down.

"What was that?" I wanted to know. Mewt grinned.

"That, my friend, was Mateus."

Marche just blinked stupidly. "The totema? Mateus the totema? But you almost never even take part in battles! How did you manage to get credit enough to summon her?"

Mewt ducked his head bashfully. "Well, Mom asked me to clear out a few infestations of the undead once or twice, so I was able to get some good knock-outs..."

I nodded, understanding. While white mages are usually unable to do anything except heal others, their holy powers work wonders against undead opponents such as zombies, poltergeists, and unholy spirits. As a high-level, obscenely powerful white mage, Mewt would actually be one of the best in the land at carrying out such exorcisms. "Very cool." I reached over to Makoto and patted her hair. "Hey, at least you're safe now, right?" She looked at the ground, and I felt my heart twist. "...Right?"

Makoto shook her head, then looked up at me. "I'm so sorry, Llednar. I can't come with you."

I blinked. "What do you mean? Of course you can! We'll just take care of you like we have before! This is going to work out, I know it!"

She shook her head again and brushed away errant tears. "But you see... the palace will never stop hunting me. Not now. And now that you've been exposed to my powers... I must go back to my original task and my original form."

All of us stared at her, various expressions of incomprehension on our faces.

"You see... you see..." Suddenly pleading, she stared at us and cried out in desperation. "The _real _Makoto Ruchida died several years ago!

"Her family was... so sad... you don't understand what it's like, having to see someone going through that kind of grief! And so I decided that I had to help them. I... I took Makoto's form, and erased all memory of their daughter's death. They never knew the way that I was able to influence their research, to find ways to better a viera's class-gaining skills, even though the palace suspected. They never even knew how powerful a summoner I am. But now you know, and I can no longer stay. That was the pact I made with my brethren. I have broken it, and so I must go back to my original duty."

Marche's expression grew grave. "I knew it. Ever since I saw your attack, I knew."

Makoto nodded. "I expected it. You shattered the crystal I was born to protect because I was already in a physical form, living a mortal life. All the power left in the avatars was given to protect it.

"My name... my real name is Exodus."

And her body began to glow, shifting form into a much older viera, clothed in strange earth-toned garments and covered in wooden and leather armor, marked by the Libra sign. The sign that was shared... _by the totema, Exodus._

I couldn't help but stare. Makoto was... Exodus! The little viera girl I had sheltered... a totema!

Slowly, the glowing woman bent and pressed her lips to my forehead. A strange tingle ran through my body, and for a moment I felt oddly lightheaded. "You cared for me as your own sister. And for that, I give you my blessing. If ever you need me in battle, you may now call upon me as you will."

And she faded into a shower of sparks.

I was vaguely aware that I was trembling. Makoto... or Exodus. She was gone now, wasn't she? Marche had destroyed the Exodus crystal long ago, before I had even been created. In effect, it was _why _I had been created. After that incident, Cid had deserted the palace, taking the Judges with him. So she... she was just a regular spirit now, to be called upon as a special summon in fights. That was the only way I would ever see her again...

Shara touched my shoulder, and I looked up at her, realizing that my knees had buckled, leaving me in a heap on the ground. "Let's go," she said softly, and pulled me up. "I think we did the right thing."

Even so, I didn't speak as we headed through the halls, leaning on Shara the whole way. I only looked up when I realized that Remedi was standing in the way of the door out of the royal chambers.

"You know," she said. None of us needed to know what she meant.

But it came as a surprise to all of us as she pulled her handscythe out and leveled its blade at us.

"There is no other way. I am sorry, but all of you must die."


	15. Remedi

Shadowed Heart--Part 15

(Special disclaimer: True Remedi is a concept of my imagination. I... uh, guess she belongs to me. Though I also own this story and my own characters, I regrettably have no claim upon Llednar or FFTA itself.)

Author's Note: (flees from pack of irate readers) I know, I know, I hate it too when people drop me a cliffy and then don't update in a billion years, but I have reasons! Now... just wait till I actually think of them!

Okay, I've finally got my arse back on the road with Shadowed Heart. That chapter took me frickin forever, and I'm sorry, but you try keeping fifty-so stories in line when you've got nearly all honors classes in high school. Part 14 officially ended the Makoto saga. This chapter is a transition saga between this and the next, and is known as the Remedi minisaga. (Uber uber minisaga. .) Next time, the numbnuts will be going back to Ivalice after a several-month break. (Yea, I _have _been reading a lot of Azumanga Daioh lately, how did you know?)

A few last words... my mom got me the very expensive two-disc soundtrack to Legend of Mana for my birthday, so I'm all happyfied. I'm listening to it this very moment. (BTW, my new thing is game and show soundtracks. I own the .hack/SIGN sound-and-songtracks and extra tracks CDs, the FLCL soundtrack-and-drama CDs, the two-disc FFTA soundtrack, the two-disc Sword of Mana soundtrack, and as of my birthday the two-disc LoM soundtrack. So now you know what to get me for Hanukkah.) As always, read my other stories, especially "Revenge", because that's a side story to this one, "Kokoro no Hanashi", because that's my top priority, and "Far Gone", which is finished now. And... uhm... don't eat rocks. Rocks are bad.

---

"There is no other way. I am sorry, but you must all die."

And then Remedi lunged--at _me._

Just barely stepping out of the way, I tripped over myself and fell onto my side, shaking. This was it. It was all going to be over...

Within instants, Marche had drawn his two katanas, and Ritz had taken out hers. They tried to strike at Remedi, but she knocked each of them aside with powerful blows. Marche, sliding backwards, collided painfully with the chamber wall and slumped, apparently unconscious, and Ritz hit the floor with a sick crack and crumpled, cradling her arm, her face contorted in pain. Fading around to behind Mewt, Remedi dealt him a deceptively gentle-looking blow to the back of the neck, and he dropped like a rock.

Only Shara and I were left.

Shara took out her bow and set an arrow to the string, but there was uncertainty in her eyes. She did not fire--she couldn't, not at her queen. She just didn't have it in her to become a regicide.

I tugged her out of the way as Remedi lunged again. Even though she had said we _all _had to die, I knew what she really meant. She'd only knocked the others out, disabled them--this was going to end in _my _death. I'd been the one to receive Makoto's, Exodus', blessing. Even though I was human...

In Remedi's world of perfect order, things went a certain way. Once again, I was violating her rigid set of laws. And the only penalty...

I looked to Shara, to the girl whose hands were still tight on her weapon, the girl I was willing to risk everything for. The girl... that I loved.

Love...

Gripping Shara's forearm, I shook my head at her. "Get out of here."

She just stared at me. "Wha-what did you say...?"

"Go!" I hissed through gritted teeth. "I'm the one she wants. If you leave now, you'll be able to get away without being hurt. She can't harm Mewt, and Marche..." I shook my head. "If he can't get out, it'll be because he can't. Take Ritz--I think her arm is broken. Get her to Roland and the others. Tell them what happened here. Don't let it set you back. Go. Now. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you."

"But, Llednar, I..." Her eyes were huge with concern, concern for me. "You can't just..."

"Don't die," I told her. "It's alright for me. I've faced death and worse before, and I've gotten away with it. Wait and see. It might just be fine after all, you know..."

Both of us knew I was lying.

"If your touching goodbye is over, then..." Remedi leveled her blade at us.

"Now!" I shoved Shara away from me, my chest tight with pain. Giving me a last anguished look, she tugged Ritz upright and began to head away with the white-haired girl leaning on her arm.

Once they were safely away, I stared Remedi in the face, raising my chin and gripping the hilts of my swords. "If this is it, then... I won't go down without a fight. Or else I wouldn't be a true biskmatar."

Remedi smirked at me. "I created you well, little boy." And then she was rushing towards me.

I drew SaveTheQueen and ExcaliburII, catching her blow on their crossed blades with a frantic mental prayer to whatever deity might be listening. This was a fight I had no hope of winning, but all the same, I could not give in to her. This time, I would not look away or back down.

We struggled briefly, and my feet slid backwards, dragging wrinkles in the length of red velvet carpet as they did. Knowing that the strain could possibly shatter my swords if we kept on, I stopped trying to block her and dove to the side again. Remedi twisted and chased me, turning on a hair's width. Gasping out a curse, I barely dodged her next strike, gaining purchase against the wall to leap into the air, letting power course through my veins as I readied my body for the heavy slash kick known as Life Render (A/N: If you've never seen Llednar use that attack, try to drag out a fight with him till he does. It's frickin awesome).

Instants before I struck, Remedi dodged away, trailing streams of blue around her body. Her blade flashed, and I felt a sharp jolt across my upper left arm, which instantly fell useless at my side. My fingers, numbed by blinding pain, slipped from SaveTheQueen's hilt; the strike had cut through the muscle in my arm, rendering it useless. I cursed, leaping forward again to slash at the queen, who faded elusively from my vision to reappear behind me, slicing me again. I felt the agonized shriek of a high child's voice and became aware that the pale blue pendant I always wore was glowing.

Swallowing a string of words I'd learned from Ritz, I tightened my grip on ExcaliburII. This was going to have to work. Please, gods.

"Dying breath... light my blade... and sing... in shadow..."

Channeling the power into my sword, I lunged forward, striking Remedi solidly with my birthright, the Omega that I knew would be my only chance at survival.

And when the light cleared, when I had nothing left...

Still she stood there, smiling, seams of blue across her face, her arms, her breasts and body, dripping cerulean blood and showing a fire behind the seams of her human guise.

And she lifted one hand into the air.

Suddenly my entire body was on fire. It was like the power of my Omega, multiplied a hundredfold. Unable to keep from crying out, I let the blackness claim me.

When light filtered through my vision, I opened my eyes to see the creature that was and was not Remedi above me.

The blue, shining, glowing, half-woman's form that I had seen when I was dying was all that was left of her. She stared at me through emotionless crimson eyes and held one hand before me. I knew that it was my own death I was staring at this time.

"Why...?" was all I could manage. And then...

There was a white, a music, a chime all around me, around us. The Remedi-creature looked up, hatred written across her face. "You!"

And a woman was walking towards us, clad in a dress of white lace, her honey-brown hair unbound and hanging almost to the floor, her deep blue eyes kind. "You may not touch that boy," she said, her voice soft and regal and motherly and commanding.

"Bitch," hissed the Remedi thing, but it backed away. The woman came to kneel beside me, her hands warm and her eyes sad and kind.

"My child, you cannot yet pass from this world," she whispered, and I realized that her touch was healing the many wounds that covered my body. "There are many trials for you yet... and a role for you and you alone to play.

"I pray for your success, my little Llednar."

And everything went mercifully black.

---

"Llednar... Llednar! Wake up! Don't do this to everyone!"

Moaning, I opened my eyes.

My head was resting on Marche's knees; as far as I could tell, the rest of me was still on the palace floor. Mewt and Ritz and Shara and Montblanc and Nono and Doned and everyone was looking anxiously down at me.

"I thought you were a goner for sure," Marche breathed. "You're completely covered in blood, even though Roland says you aren't physically wounded... what happened?"

"Where did that woman go...?" I managed in a croak.

"Woman?" Chelney wanted to know. "Better speak up, lad. Tell us everything that happened after you sent Shara for the rest of us."

Slowly, haltingly, I spilled out my story. By the time I had finished, everyone was staring at me wide-eyed.

"Her Majesty attacked you!" Babus was pale under his fur. "Why would she do such a thing? You have no quarrel with each other..."

Marche, however, seemed lost in his own world. "So even the wish-granter must submit to someone," he mused. "Even the Li-Grim has laws she must follow... who was that woman that you saw?"

I closed my eyes. It was clear enough that this would not be solved today...

...just as it was clear that all of us had a long road ahead.

What had I gotten us into now?


	16. Tower Ruins

Shadowed Heart--Part 16

(Disclaimer #3: I don't own FFTA, Llednar, or the Hero Gaol missions, although the plot twists in the substory are my own, bwa ha ha. All of the original Clan Dragon members are mine, no duh. So pleez don't sue me. Pretty plz.)

Author's Note: Oooh, suspense! (cackles) Don't worry, this is all adding up to go _somewhere, _but it'll be a looong time before it finally does. (dodges bricks, rocks, and the occasional tree or fridge) Don't worry. No matter _how _long it takes me, I am going to finish this. I hope. Especially now that we're on the third saga!

Some things you can look forward to...

--As mentioned in the disclaimer, this saga is the Hero saga, occurring throughout the five Hero Gaol missions. So there will be a lot of references to Gaol and Lini. This has a lot of significance for our "heroes"... ahem. (grin grin wink wink)

--Montblanc/Chelney. Lots and lots of Montblanc/Chelney. BTW, I actually do have a party member named Chelney; she's my moogle gadgeteer. She joined the party as a gadgeteer, which makes me happyfied--I didn't have to waste time building one up. Her last name, "Nan", is the name of my viera red mage. There were a few requests as to putting fencers in my story... unfortunately, I can't inject a clan member at this stage, but what I _can _do is refer to Nan. Sorry, but... (dodges more trees)

--Marche/Ritz. No duh. And Llednar/Shara. More no duh.

--A lot later on, you'll be seeing significance in the role of Lune. Remember her? A lot of you thought that she should be hooked up with Llednar. That wasn't the case, but she _is _important. Remember that.

--A few sagas away from this one, you'll be seeing the appearance of a pair of characters who will seem very familiar to you if you've read Love Star's story "Stray Ends". I cleared it with her a while ago, and so... yeah.

--Plot twists. Remember that although this story takes us through many circumstances, we're learning about Llednar along the way. You have to be attentive to catch the hints that I drop... and I've dropped a lot. Some of you may even have the whole thing figured out by now, so you're just coming along for the ride. Either way, there will be those who, upon reading the final conclusion, will whap themselves on the head and go "OH!" Everything will make sense in time... in time. Paaaatience grasshopper. n.n

Okay kiddies, story time!

---

Yawning and stretching, I happily made my way into the main pub of the Prancing Chocobo with Marche. It had been several weeks since we'd managed to come back to Ivalice--since the Makoto, I mean Exodus, incident in fact. Only the two of us could manage to get there; Ritz's arm was still in a cast, Doned had some important therapy work that weekend, and Mewt was loaded down with a pile of extra homework.

As we came down into our clan hub, we were greeted enthusiastically by the others. The only member of the clan who wasn't present was Ezel, who was apparently back at his antilaw shop, working hard on a new treat for his customers.

"So what should we do today?" Marche asked, leaning back in his seat at the wooden table.

"There've been some new missions posted," Montblanc suggested. "We could scope those out, kupo."

So the three of us moseyed over to the big corkboard that the pubmaster had recently placed beside the bar counter. Montblanc, who got there first, suddenly stared at one posting and frowned.

"What is it?" Marche wanted to know.

" 'Gaol, the knight of the amber eyes, was out with the moogle Lini when they heard tales of a red-armed fiend in the Koringwood'," Montblanc read. "There's no name, or no sign of anyone's having posted this. Just 'The Hero Gaol, chapter 1'."

"Who's Gaol?" I wanted to know.

"I've heard a little about him," Marche offered. "Apparently, he was a hero here in Ivalice hundreds of years ago. He ended up purging the lands of a lot of scum with his clanmates Lini and Max the archer, but when he was trying to rescue some friend of his, he was killed. I guess he's sort of the Odysseus of Ivalice."

I nodded, turning to the sheet. It hadn't been handwritten but printed on some typewriter, so there was no writing to trace. "Why would somebody post this?"

"I don't know," Marche admitted, scratching his head. "Maybe it's a sort of celebration of Gaol's life and journeys... someone's setting up a special event...?"

Montblanc's frown deepened. I didn't think I'd ever seen him look so serious before. "I don't like this, kupo. The realm's knighthoods, who live in the honor of Gaol and Lini, don't have anything to do with this, I can tell, kupopo... I don't like it at all."

"But isn't the only way to sort it out... to go to the Koringwood and find out what's going on firsthand?" I said hesitantly. Marche and Montblanc looked at me like I was crazy. "Look, if this thing's posted anywhere and everywhere, some stupid rookie clan might stumble into this mission, and their members will get hurt, maybe killed. At least our people are strong. If we get into something over our heads, we know how to handle it."

"If you say so," Marche sighed. "Oei!" Everyone turned to look at him. "What three idiots want to come with us on this crazy mission?"

Shara, already stringing up her bow, marched forward. "Me. This one gets into way too much trouble when I'm not around." She was pointing at me. I scowled, though inwardly I was pleased.

"You're not leaving me out of any potential fun you get into," Chelney pointed out. For the first time, I noticed that she, like Eleono, rarely slipped into a moogle's natural way of speech, adding "kupo" to the ends of her sentences. "And I'm with Shara. Boys always end up in trouble when girls aren't around."

"And everyone gets in trouble when there's no healer around," Roland said with a reluctant sigh, standing up with a scrape of chair. "I guess I have to be along as well."

"Then it's settled," Marche said, heading over to the pubmaster. "Let's go find out what in the world this person wants."

---

By the time we got to the Koringwood, it was night, and the woods were crawling with monsters.

"I don't see any red-armed fiends around, do you?" I asked, glancing casually around the area.

Montblanc shook his head. "Llednar, you need to read the book 'The Hero Gaol' sometime," he chided. "The red-armed fiend was _human, _kupo." (A/N: Since I have _not _read the actual book 'The Hero Gaol', I'm going off The China Boy's version. Unfortunately, that is incomplete. I hope he continues it sometime soon. After I get past what he's written I'll have to improvise.)

"Whatever," Marche said, flipping his blades from their sheaths. What I _do _see are a bunch of monsters that need to be cleaned out. Is anyone _besides _me interested in that?"

So out we went.

The monsters that were fool enough to stick around for us to carve up were a goblin, icedrake, bomb, firewyrm, and malboro. With Roland hanging back in case we needed healing, we divvied up the spoils equally and went to it.

Chelney took the goblin. Humanoid monsters, they can at times display intelligence, but this wasn't one of those times. The fool thing decided it was going to come in and bludgeon her to death--even I could've told it that it was being a nimrod. Chelney danced out of the way of its attacks, using her diminutive size to its full advantage, then pulled out a brace of kunai and neatly pinned it to the ground by its hands and feet, then ripped it to shreds with her dagger.

Montblanc decided to put out the bomb. Bombs and their counterparts, grenades, are like big balls of fire (or ice); therefore, it was easy to deal with. He just cast Blizzaga on it, and it fizzled into nothingness.

Shara, meanwhile, had staked her claim on a patch of high ground and had already nailed the malboro with several arrows. I winced as I watched the thing shudder and collapse--that looked _painful. _Once again, I was glad to be friends with Shara instead of her enemy.

Marche and I got the fun part.

As I mentioned before, there were two dragons in the monsters' party, a firewyrm and an icedrake. Although big and brutish, they're quite stupid, actually, and so they were easy game.

I didn't stop to watch how Marche dealt with his icedrake, but I had a good time playing with the firewyrm. It was so slow that I was able to run in circles around it, and pretty soon it was stomping around and puffing out little tongues of flame in irritation. I catapulted off a patch of thick, springy mosslike growth, and drew my swords in a cross while I was flying over the monster's back. In a burst of blood, it went down--I'd severed its spine.

"That was pretty easy," I commented. "Are you _sure _this isn't somebody's idea of a special event?"

Montblanc shook his head. "I know that didn't seem very difficult, but still... I don't like the feel of this place. If someone's trying to resurrect Gaol's legend, to begin his journey again... I'm not sure I understand it, kupo."

And so we headed off, satisfied that we'd done well. Although there was actually quite a bit of work still to be done...


	17. Battle in Aisen

Shadowed Heart--Part 17

(see disclaimer in Part 16)

:too lazy to remove previous A/N:

Author's Note: As some of you (i.e., Black Hole CO) have noticed, the Hero Saga chapters will be slightly shorter than previous ones for a while. That is due to the fact that the battles are usually pretty easy and don't contain much plot until the Magewyrm mission. Sorry, but... at any rate, this allows me to get them done more quickly. I have a big pile of Bio homework to do, so there you have it.

Before we get things going, I'd like to bring some stuff up. Firstly, to my regular story plugging... check out the new one-shot titled "Shadow" by Avari-san the wind seer, a relatively new author here (as far as I know). It's a good take on Llednar's POV during the Royal Valley mission. If you can't find it for some reason, I put it on my Faves list. Second, you can be forewarned of crossover hysteria in the next saga, which is gonna be frickin huge and will include guest appearances from Love Star's two characters, Nina, who is an assassin from my newest FFTA save (joined up when she was level 9 AS an assassin, so she's quite special to me) and is as smartassed as Daryle is shy and nearly nonexistant, and at least one character from another Final Fantasy media. Take a guess at which one it is--unless you know me well, it may drive you nuts trying. Go ahead, I encourage it. (laughs maniacally, then dodges a fresh wave of flying kitchen appliances, rocks, and sporks)

Okay, I guess I better start writing before you get mad and try to eat me. (starts edging away)

---

"They put up another one?"

All of us were staring incredulously at Montblanc, who had just broken the news to us with an uncharacteristic scowl on his face.

"Did it say anything more than the first?"

Montblanc shook his head. " 'Gaol, himself one of the Aisen 13, was adventuring with Lini the moogle when they heard that Aisen Keep had been attacked.--The Hero Gaol, chapter 2'. That's all, kupo."

"So what do you think, everybody?" Marche asked, scrubbing his face of foam from his ice-cream soda. "Should we go check it out?"

Shara squirmed and got a guilty look. "Sorry, guys. I've got to sit this one out. I already promised Miserie and Daryle that I'd go with them to their friend Nina's." I nodded, remembering. Nina Rodriguez, an assassin friend of Miserie's from Muscadet, had sent an invitation the last time Marche and I were in Ivalice for them to come over around now.

"Me too," Chelney said, making a face. "The Lord Provost wants to talk to me about a little misunderstanding we had awhile back over some grand lady's amethyst earbobs." My eyes were drawn to the little pale violet studs embedded in the moogle's ears. "It may take a while, so I probably won't be back until tomorrow. Apologies."

"That's fine," Marche told them with a dismissive wave. Both girls got up and headed off. "Anybody else want to come with us?"

To my surprise, Babus stood up. "I would be glad to accompany you."

"It'll be good to fight beside you again," I commented with a grin. Babus rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was pleased.

"Any others?" Marche asked again.

Dead silence.

"Oh-kaaaaay. I guess we'll be going then." And he turned on his heel, heading out towards the town. The rest of us followed.

---

"So what's the story of the Aisen thirteen anyway?" I wanted to know. We were nearly there, and I wanted to hear a little history before we went charging in up to our ears.

Babus, who was walking beside me, nodded. "In an ancient war, thirteen young knights decided to settle out the score in a bloodbath. In those days, there were only a few judges, so there was a lot of death in fights like that one. Gaol and five of his companions fought in that battle--his moogle comrade Lini, the bowyard Max, his lover Evelyn, a paladin of Neksu, and a fighter of Sequence."

"Sequence?" I asked.

"You've heard of the keep that holds the lands along the coast, right?" I nodded. "The Sequence family has governed that land for years with a fair hand. They gave their best sword into the keeping of the palace when they set up their realm of control as their pledge of loyalty. It is a truly impressive blade. Cast copies of it are handed out to the winners of the yearly Clan League contests." (A/N: Fact. Proud to say it, too. Learn more about the Sequences in my side story Revenge.)

"And one of the Neksus? OUR Neksus?" I whistled. "Man. Infamous, aren't you people?"

Roland, who was on my other side, smiled ruefully. "We've been serving the royal family since the first king set down his laws. My father is a bit of a traditionalist even though he married an illusionist... you can understand the pressure he put on us to become knights, especially after my brother Vivi got into the black magics and went to study overseas. He's a powerful archmage now, and he taught me some tricks when I was little, which is why I was able to become a blue mage after I got my mastery at the Hall of White Adepts."

"So what happened in the fight?" I asked Babus again.

The white nu mou shook his head. "Isn't it obvious? When Gaol and his comrades came to the defense of Aisen Keep, they took the opposition's seven knights and slaughtered them. Brutally."

"Ouch. Gaol must've been strong."

"He was that." Babus pointed. "Don't look now, but we have company. And we're here."

I popped each of my swords about an inch out of the sheath. "Goody. Can't wait."

To my surprise, the enemies that awaited us at the ruins of the keep weren't monsters--they were actual clanners. Montblanc, scowl firmly in place, strode out before us, looking more commanding than I'd ever seen him before.

"What are you doing desecrating the battlefield of the Aisen 13, kupo! Leave at once, or we'll be forced to scourge you, kupo!"

The leader of the motley band, a fighter with a peroxide-white mohawk, stepped forward. "You're gonna hafta make us!" he called back, taunting. "This land belongs to Clan Tekna now!"

Montblanc glared dangerously at them. "Only in your dreams."

There was a sudden whistle, and a judge on a chocobo came charging in.

"Today's battle, Clan Dragon versus Clan Tekna! The winners will claim ownership over this battlefield. The laws governing this fight forbid Charge, Blades, and Flair."

I couldn't help it--I yowled derisively at the new slight. "WHAT! Since when did they start outlawing _biskmatar _techniques!"

"A few weeks ago, young man," the judge replied. I gritted my teeth and suppressed a growl. "Ever since the Ruchida disasters."

Lovely. Remedi was still pissed about that.

Whatever. I could do without using my four Flair techniques. All this meant was that I had to depend, for this fight at least, on Abyss, Omega, and my twin swords. Oh, and that I could be tethered anytime, thanks to Ezel's law cards. Would that the technology be cursed and gods be my witnesses!

"Okay," Marche said, drawing his katanas. "This is slightly bad for you, Montblanc, because of your class... you'll just have to rely on your black magic, alright?"

Montblanc was already sliding his black-bladed sword into its sheath. "No problem, kupo."

"Llednar, you can deal, right?"

I nodded grimly. Thank all the gods for the shreds of self-control Remedi had taught me to make use of, or I'd be going after the judge right now and landing everyone in a deep heap of shit.

"That's good. Roland, I'd like you, Babus, and Montblanc to clean up the enemy's archers and fencer. Llednar, you'd better take the dragoon--I'll be dealing with the Fighter, which should be made a little easier since he can't use his sword. Ready?"

I nodded grimly, gritting my teeth. Ready as I'd ever be, half-crippled before even entering a fight. Sighing, I flipped ExcaliburII and SaveTheQueen from their sheaths. I'd better learn to deal with the laws like everyone else, even though it felt extremely vulnerable having to depend on half my abilities.

"Go!"

I dashed forwards towards the burly, green-plated bangaa with the spear. He lashed out at me as I approached him, but I leaped over his strike, dodging behind him onto a few half-rotten wooden planks from the keep. Tensing the muscles in my legs, I prepared to leap towards him in a devastating Life Render--before remembering at the last second that I was banned by law forbidding use of Flair. Off-balance, I struggled to regain myself, preparing for a more sloppy double strike. When I next looked, the bangaa dragoon was gone.

And then he came down from the sky, spear pointed, right on top of me.

Unable to keep myself from crying out, I fell backwards into the small stream running from beneath the keep, the bangaa's feet planted firmly on my chest. The water was only two feet deep or so, but my head was still completely submerged, and through the haze I could see the spear pointed at my throat. These guys were playing _dirty._

Gritting my teeth, I flung my hands up, breaking the water's surface, and thought-prepared a blast of the poison Abyss straight up at my foe.

He yelped, as far as I could tell, and stumbled backwards, what parts of his flesh I could see tinted green. I'd gotten him. Launching painfully out of the water, I sliced him with each of my swords, felling him. That done, I rescued my hat, which had fallen off while I was on my back in the stream, and slogged out of the mud, wringing it out and trying to ignore my dizziness, lightheadedness, and the annoying stabbing pain in my side. Ten to one I'd cracked a rib. Joy. Heavy bludger, that one.

I looked up in time to see Babus smack the remaining archer with a new mace I hadn't yet seen, one with spikes protruding from every angle of a green plantlike substance, looking almost like a cactus club. No wonder he'd volunteered to come with us--he'd just wanted to try out his new toy. Montblanc, meanwhile, was casting a glorious Firaga on the hapless fencer, and Marche, who'd dispatched his foe long ago, was helping Roland, who'd taken an arrow, to remove it. We'd won.

Staggering towards the others, I winced and hissed with the pain.

"What happened?" Babus asked.

"I forgot the law for a minute there," I replied bitterly. "I stopped before I actually attacked, but Genius there decided he was gonna jump me while I was remembering, and so I nearly got pounded. Biskmatars are not brick walls, you know. I don't like taking hits. But I got him."

Roland (minus the arrow, which was now in Marche's hand with a tip black-bloody) walked over to me, his hands already glowing, his skin pale from his own blood loss. "You broke something," he said tiredly. "Let me fix. It's all I'm here for, after all."

As his warm hands found the wound and began to repair it, Montblanc shook his head. "Don't think that, Roland, kupo! It wasn't your fault you got hit, and you took out that archer well!"

"But I forgot the other one," he reminded us. "I'm not really cut out for field work."

"If you say so," Marche said, rolling his eyes. "Hell, you know that if not for you we'd be half the clan we are now, in both senses of the term. It wasn't until what happened to Gelarto that we realized how badly we needed a healer, and you were perfect for us. You've taken care of us, Roland, and your swordsmanship isn't too shabby either. I like knowing you're back here in the wings ready to save our tails if we need it."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Roland replied flatly. "If you tried that on Ritz, she'd lay you out flat within a matter of seconds. Fool." Looking up at me, he smiled wanly. "You're making so much noise, I can't think," he teased gently. As he said it, I felt a sharp twinge and a click, and knew my ribs had knitted. I tried to take the pain without flinching. Straightening up, he ruffled my hair with a smile. "You know, you look and act more like my brother every day." I blushed at the high praise. "Shouldn't we be getting back home, fearless leader?"

Marche shrugged and yawned. "Might as well. Okay, gang, let's go."

And we did.


	18. Magewyrm

Shadowed Heart--Part 18

(see disclaimer in Part 16)

Author's Note: Enter plot. Yay.

By the way, I've been pleased to realize that Llednar has taken on one of the facets of my personality that I actually like--my ability to play to a crowd. He even does it without noticing. However, I have, and I'm certain that you have as well. He ends up spouting ten times the witty things I manage in day-to-day life, and drawing from my own knowledge to do so. Yes, I _have _quoted such glorified mediums as Calvin and Hobbes to personify our little biskmatar, as some of you have noticed. (grin)

On other notes... While I know it's extremely hard to get, those of you with the chance should try your hardest to pick up a copy of Riviera: The Promised Land for GBA. I managed to get the last copy available in my immediate area last Friday and OH! MY! GAWD! I! LOVE! THIS! GAME! It's an RPG with FUN, non-annoying dungeons! How cool is that!

...Riviera is based on Norse mythology, but it changes one major thing: When the gods realized that they were losing Ragnarok (the war between the gods and demons that caused the end of the world), they sacrificed their lives to create "Grim Angels", the ultimate warriors, who were able to purge Utgard (the city of demons and opposite of Asgard) with the power of their Diviners (powerful personalized weapons) and purify it. Utgard was passed to the care of the Sprites and the seven Magi, and became the sacred isle of Riviera. 1000 years later, there are signs that the demons are regrouping for another war, so the seven Magi created more Grim Angels to activate the "Retribution" and save Asgard. Your main character, Ein, is a noob Grim Angel who just got his Diviner, "Einhanjer", at the sacrifice of his wings. He, his best friend and mentor Ledah, and his familiar, a kitty-thing named Rose, are on a journey to begin the Retribution and defeat the demons. However, Ein is troubled because he's heard that the Retribution could destroy Riviera completely, and he wonders if there isn't another way.

Of course, Ein eventually gets separated from Ledah and ends up traveling with four Sprites (Fia the fencer, Lina the archer, Serene the reaper, and Cierra the witch) to find that other way. The character interaction is fun, the dungeons are great, the music is pretty, and the graphics are soo adorable! In other words... BUY! NOW! It rocks! Serene kicks ass! Lina's a cutie! Rose is funny! Ledah is huggable... and he has big, fluffy black wings! BLACK! WINGS! Eeee! (huggles) (hyperventilates) ...okay... I'm seriously turning into a walking advertisement... enough Riviera babble, here's the story.

---

"So have you got any idea at all who's been posting all these weird missions?" Marche asked. He was leaning on the bar counter with the two printed sheets of paper in his hand, speaking to the pubmaster.

The old ex-paladin shook his head. "I don't know his name, sorry. But I've seen him around a few times. Just pins those up without a word."

"Have you seen his face, then?"

Another shake of the head. "He's always hooded and cloaked, but he looks something like one of those dark knights, the whatdyoucallems, biskmatars." (A/N: Interesting fact... FFXI has actually made the biskmatar class available to the public for the first time. They're known as dark knights in the MMORPG, and require mastery of abilities from the warrior and black mage classes. Yet another reason I desperately want to get my hands on that game even though I don't have a PS2.) The man pointed over to the corkboard. "In fact, that's him right now!"

We all whipped around. A figure wrapped in heavy clothing and a ragged cloak was attaching yet another message to the board. His fingers, the only parts of his body that were exposed, were covered in heavy scars, and were waxy white.

"Wait!" Marche called, shoving through the crowds towards him. "Who are you? Why do you keep putting these up? What do you want? Don't go!"

The figure was already making its way out of the pub, and Marche, cut off by a swath of giggling young human and viera women, couldn't give chase.

I cursed and looked at my friends. Chelney and Shara, who'd just gotten back, both seemed disappointed. Roland was frowning. And Montblanc had turned as white as the stranger under his fur, almost as if he'd seen a ghost.

Marche, returning, carried the newest of the printed sheets of paper with him. " 'Gaol, wielder of the twin sword Ayvuir, was out with Lini the moogle when they were asked to drive the magewyrm out of Delia. The Hero Gaol, chapter 3'. Bloody convenient, isn't it? This time it's an actual task. Wonder what the guy's trying to get us to do now."

"It's no coincidence that these missions, posted by that man, were put up in this pub, kupo," Montblanc said softly. "They're for _our _clan. And I have some idea why, kupo."

"Tell us, then," Chelney prompted impatiently.

Montblanc pointed straight at me. I just blinked at him. "What did I do now?"

"This isn't about anything you've done, kupo. It's about what you are."

"What do you mean? Stop talking in riddles."

Montblanc sighed irritably. "I'll spell it out then. Whoever that person is, he's targeting Clan Dragon because you're a biskmatar, Llednar."

I pouted. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Kupo... you really do need to read The Hero Gaol sometime."

"Clarify!" I snapped. "Does this lead up to something or are you just guessing?"

"Llednar, how much do you know about the history of your class?"

That took me off-guard. "Um... not much, really. I know my limits and potential, but not that much about biskmatars before me... that's most likely because there haven't been any in a long time."

Montblanc nodded. "That's very true. In fact, there haven't been any biskmatars _since the time of Gaol, _kupo. And that is because Gaol and his lover Evelyn were biskmatars themselves."

"They got the class banned?" Shara asked skeptically beside me.

Montblanc shook his head. "No. They were killed, kupo... they died without passing on the secrets of their class. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to become a biskmatar without royal permission. Only the palace is allowed to keep the records of how to train one. It's like becoming a runeseeker or hermetic... they're special classes that only select people can get into, kupo.

"My guess, kupopo, is that we're being singled out because we have a biskmatar in our ranks... this person, whoever it is, may have selected Llednar to fill in Gaol's role."

Lovely idea, that. More idiots selecting me because of what I am instead of who I am.

"We don't know for sure," Marche said, sensing my disliking of the concept. "Come on, we'd better take care of whatever it is this time now."

---

The old temples in the middle of the Delia sands were said to have been abandoned years ago, but they didn't look quite so empty to me.

A cluster of six monsters--three dragons (MORE of the blasted things?), a panther, an antlion, and a bomb--were roving about the empty building. Their leader seemed to be the enormous Thundrake who stood at their fore, covered in gnarled old scars, with a glint of something I didn't like in its eyes.

Montblanc, upon seeing this beast, let out a cry of shock. "It can't be... Gerland! But Gaol defeated you!"

The dragon Gerland, Delia's magewyrm, looked up and hissed. "Lini... you and your comrades will rest in Hell this time!"

Montblanc, still shaken, drew his black sword. "You're the one going to Hell, demon!"

Marche drew his twin katanas. "Leave my friend alone!"

And the situation deteriorated into chaos from there.

At Gerland's howl, all the monsters leaped forward. Shara, moving quickly, pinned the panther with three well-aimed arrows, and Chelney took out the antlion with a lucky dagger, but the rest of us weren't quite so quick to dispatch our foes.

The dragons were a bit of a problem, as it turned out. These were stronger by far than the ones we'd dealt with back in the Koringwood, and Gerland, as a magewyrm, would be completely resistant to magic. (The bomb, trying to attack us, blew itself up with little effect a few seconds into the fight. It was of no consequence to the rest of the battle, but truly, it would be better to mention its end...) Shara and Chelney both tried, but it didn't take either of them long to run out of projectiles to throw, and the stupid creatures were far too fast for them to hit.

"Back to me!" Roland shouted, gathering us all. "I think I can handle the support dragons!"

"How?" Chelney wanted to know. "We _tried _already!"

Roland shook his head. "You rough-and-tumble types. The only way you can think of to solve a problem is to shake something pointy at it. This is a _mage's _area of expertise." He turned to me. "Llednar, I'm going to need your help with this."

"What can I do?" I asked him.

"Cast Abyss on the dragons, and I'll do the rest. It will only work if we attack at the same time, so be quick about it."

Standing beside Roland, I thought a quick prayer to the skies that he knew what he was doing, raised my open palm for the magic, and let loose the stream of toxic wind at Gerland and his cronies.

With a cry, the blue mage sent a ripple of violet-white fire down the length of his saber, which traveled along the path of my Abyss and consumed the red and blue dragons on either side of the magewyrm. The beasts howled and sank to the ground in misery, consumed by the fires. As a blue mage, I remembered, Roland was able to learn the magical attacks of monsters and duplicate them himself. Using a technique learned from some hapless vampire, Roland had used the trajectory of my attack to unleash a usually random Shadowflare blast on our foes.

"Now we finish them," he murmured, and dashed forward, plunging the sword he held into one dragon's heart. Following suit, I sliced the other one's head off.

Growling his hate, Gerland whirled with incredible speed and slashed Roland across the chest, sending him backwards to hit the wall and crumple with a low moan of pain.

"SHIT!" I abandoned the dragon I'd just slain and ran to our healer's side. It didn't look good. The claw wounds the magewyrm had given him had opened long slices in his armor, clothes, and skin, and he was bleeding badly. "Roland, hang in there!" I never carried curatives on me, as my list of battle actions was filled by my dark magic and flair abilities, but I had never forgotten the way I'd dragged Doned from the edge of death months before.

Tapping the sphere of white, I pulled a thread of it into my outstretched hand, then placed it over Roland's chest, letting it spill through. Although I felt mildly dizzy, I maintained the contact until I realized that Roland's wounds had healed, and the blood on his body was sliding on skin instead of rushing out of open arteries. Relieved, I removed my hand. That hadn't taken quite so much as before, but it still made me feel lightheaded, and my vision was blurring and tilting crazily.

"Wha... unh..." Moaning, Roland opened his eyes, staring when he saw me. "How did you--" Unable to stay up any longer, I collapsed against him, peeking over my shoulder at the others. Shara and Chelney, their backs to us, were planted in a position to fight against Gerland if he came too close, and Marche and Montblanc were busy dispatching him.

The magewyrm, trapped between the mog knight and ninja, had nowhere to escape to; Marche seemed to have cast a Wood jutsu on him, as thin vines resembling bamboo had woven around his big scaly feet and were keeping him pinned in one place. The moogle and human were happily carving chunks out of him, and as I watched, Montblanc slashed his black sword across the yellow-scaled throat. Gerland was down.

"Great job, mate," Chelney shouted, and Montblanc, sheathing his sword, ducked his head in embarrassment.

"Part 3 down," Marche said with a sigh. "Roland, you okay over there? That looked pretty nasty."

Roland, still staring strangely at me, nodded. "I'm alright. Llednar's not, though. I think we need to get him a little rest, or he's going to go out on us."

I would've argued, but the world was spinning a little too quickly, so I just closed my eyes and let everything go blissfully blank.


	19. Salika Keep

Shadowed Heart--Part 19

(see disclaimer in Part 16)

Author's Note: Alrighty, we've gotten down to the second-to-last chapter of the Hero saga. It's been quite a long way here--this is the longest story I've put up so far--and we're still nowhere _near _the end of Llednar's story. If you want, think of this like Legend of Mana... you have to get through various scenarios regarding the other main characters to get to your own story. And when you're done... be kind, rewind, as the videotapes say. Go back and look for all my hints at things, even after the end of a saga. Hey, you may even end up catching my typos! Things like that always leap out in a story your second time through.

Story. Too lazy to add any more commentary, anyway.

---

The afternoon that followed Gerland's defeat, we were all (the whooole clan) crowded around a table next to the posting board. Marche was bound and determined to catch the strange guy who put up our missions in the act, and the rest of us were just enjoying the root beer floats he'd bought us all in order to do it. Everybody loves unlimited refills.

For all our vigilance, though, we almost missed him.

The only reason we noticed him was because he bumped into the waitress, who was departing after our requests for a sixteenth helping of ice cream. As she started to fall, he caught her gently, and in doing so, let a small piece of paper drop from his hands onto our table.

It was printed like the others, but in bloodred ink instead of black. Marche, snatching it, scanned it quickly, then handed it to Montblanc with a black expression and stood up. By that time, I'd also recognized the traveler, and was pushing in my chair to head over to him.

"Who are you and why have you been giving us those?" Marche asked softly.

In answer, the man pulled down the high collar of his cloak and pushed the heavy yards of fabric from over his eyes, letting a few strands of gold-blonde hair trail down and exposing a pair of eyes that were as amberish-brown as mine.

It was a face that would perhaps at one time have been handsome, but it was disfigured by many scars, one of which passed over his nose at a place where it seemed to have been broken once. It was also a face so solemn that our clanmates behind us stopped their talk at once and stared, and its melancholy air pierced something inside me with cold.

"Your task is almost over," he whispered in a voice like the breeze of an arctic night. "You only have one dangerous enemy left in your path. Fight well, my children. Fight with everything you have, or he will twist you until you are no more." He leaned toward first Marche, then me, and I felt a momentary brush of dry lips against my forehead before he drifted back through the crowds.

I looked to Marche, who was wearing an expression that was both frustrated and confused. "He... he didn't even tell us his name...!"

"He doesn't need to tell us, kupo," Montblanc said softly. "I have no more reason to suspect his motives. This is a quest for revenge, kupopo."

"Revenge?" Miserie asked, sipping at her drink. "For what?"

"For his death and the death of his lady," Montblanc went on, sounding awed. "That... that was Gaol himself, kupo. His spirit has been unable to rest for all these years..."

"Wait one minute. Did you just say that was _Gaol!" _Marche asked, his voice sounding strained.

Montblanc nodded.

It made perfect sense to me already. In other jobs it worked that way too... white mages seeking the council of White Adepts, ninjas in training together, fighters turning to fighters for help... this was one biskmatar coming to another and to the head of his fellow's clan when he was in need of aid. Gaol had waited a long time for the coming of the next in line.

"I should probably explain the manner in which Gaol died," Montblanc said seriously, shaking his head. "Although he and Evelyn were lovers, kupo, the master of the Salika Keep also desired her and was infuriated that her heart belonged to Gaol. In a fit of treachery against the crown, he kidnapped Evelyn and told Gaol to come back and fight for her. It was a trap, and Evelyn was the perfect bait to lure Gaol to his death, kupo. He and Lini came alone to rescue Evelyn, but the keeplord summoned monsters to murder Gaol and stole one of his swords. Lini took the other to his grave with him, and it is unknown to this day what happened to it. It's a sad story, kupopo.

"Evelyn hated the keeplord bitterly for what he had done, and refused to take his hand in marriage. Angered at her refusal, the lord first assaulted her, then murdered her with her lover's sword." All the girls around the table flinched, though I didn't quite understand why. "At that moment, the Ayvuir sword that the keeplord took was stained eternally red in her blood, and Lini's Ayvuir turned blue from its lost master's tears. The royalty was furious, kupo. The king and queen of that era cursed the Salika keeplord for sixscore centuries, though I'm not quite sure what that curse entails, kupo.

"Gaol is back because he and Evelyn were never avenged. Not even Lini was able to settle the score. However, perhaps _this _biskmatar will be able to do it." Montblanc looked pointedly at me, as did everyone else.

"What are you waiting for me to say?" I asked them bitterly. "If I want to do this? Doesn't seem like I have much choice, does it? Let's go, then. Let's fight the fight and get this whole stupid thing over with."

"Llednar..." Shara reached out tentatively to touch my shoulder, but I turned away.

"Let's just go," I said, standing, trying to fight away my anger at Gaol for coming to me out of everyone in the world. No matter what class I was in, I didn't really want to deal with something like this right now.

---

"What is it?" Shara asked me.

I looked up with a grimace and removed my hand from my temple. "Nothing," I lied through my teeth.

We were getting pretty close to the Salika stronghold, and dusk was beginning to fall. Over the journey, I'd started to feel slightly strange, as though there were prickles crawling beneath my skin, as well as a little nauseous and headachy. But why would I tell Shara that I felt like I was starting to get sick? It would only make her worry, and besides, this would be over quickly, like the other fights. And then I'd be able to go home.

As we stepped onto the keephold ground, the feeling intensified, and a sharp chill ran up my back, making me tremble and collapse to my knees. "Uh... ugh..." Unable to help it, I twined my fingers deeply into my hair, clutching my head, which was pounding. "I... I... uh..."

"Llednar!"

Vaguely aware that someone was kneeling beside me, I looked up a hair. Roland was next to me, his hands on my shoulders to steady me. "Are you alright?"

"Dizzy..." The word came out in a moan.

"I knew it," Shara proclaimed grimly. "Why didn't you say anything was wrong with you before?"

Roland shook his head. I realized that he'd been examining me by magic. "This isn't just a normal sickness. Something here's causing it. I've never seen anything like this before..."

"This was fabled to be one of the snares that the Salika lord used to trap Gaol," Montblanc mused. "A net of energy that sapped biskmatars of their innate powers... I had no idea that this was still in use, kupo..."

"This is no good," Chelney said with a bitter curse. "If Llednar's already down..."

"Look who's here," Marche said bitterly, his twin katanas already unsheathed. Four clanners--two bangaa defenders, a human white mage, and a nu mou time mage--were standing across the shallow brook on the keep land.

"Wait..." Surveying the environment, Montblanc shook his head. "Here're the hired mercenaries... so where's the lord...?"

There was a sudden, muffled squeal to my left. As quickly as I could, I whirled, tugging on SaveTheQueen's hilt with my left hand, as my right was completely numb. A monster--a vampire--had grabbed Shara from behind, and was already fading into nothing.

"SHARA!"

I tried to slice the beast, but by the time I was able to, it was gone, and Shara with it. It faded onto the rotted remains of the wooden keep, with its unwilling captive still clutched in its shadowy grip.

"Shara!" I tried to lunge forwards, but my knees buckled, and I collapsed in midleap.

"Gaol..." the creature hissed, still holding onto Shara. "You will die... and this time, Evelyn will be mine!"

"Damn you!" I struggled back up, dimly aware that Marche was splitting up the rest of the forces. Still unsteady on my feet, I ran straight for the keeplord's twisted spirit, ready to tear it apart.

However, two things I didn't count on were the fact that the vampire had a sword of its own--a fine red blade that glowed in the early darkness--and the fact that it was using Shara as a shield. Those, added to the way that I _really _wasn't feeling very well _at all, _made the fight much tougher than it would usually have been.

If you have never fought a vampire yourself, let me tell you: the things are damn hard to hit even in the best of circumstances. As spirits, they're able to teleport themselves around an arena, and once they're down, they come back after a few minutes unless you wipe their whole party out or have some brave monk or archer perform an exorcism or burial to destroy their spirits. Nasty things. On top of that, they have no reservations about poisoning you or draining away your life. I despise the creatures. The keeplord's ghost is my least favorite of the lot.

As I swiped at it in an attempt to at least disarm it of its weapon or its viera shield, it veered sharply away from me, playing on my dizziness to come sharply up behind me and unbalance me for a hit. And once it slashed me with its sword, I felt more lightheaded and dizzy than ever. In addition, my tilting vision disoriented me into falling backwards, and that fall made me do the one thing that Remedi had bruised me all over for weeks teaching me not to do.

I dropped my sword.

And although I was calling myself ten kinds of idiot, it was physically impossible for me to reach it again. For one thing, I was on my back, and the sword was a few inches out of the reach of my left hand. My right hand was on my right and could not have gotten at it even in the best of circumstances. I could not sit up because of blood loss, outright disorientation, and oh, there was the _tiny _fact that the keeplord had the edge of his blade against my throat and had tilted my head back to get a better reach at my aorta.

Pretty much... I was screwed.

Shara chose that precise moment to squirm out of the vampire's hold, causing the blade to nick my skin and start a fine ribbon of blood flowing down the side of my throat. I couldn't help it--I let out a little whimper. Throatslitting is _not _a pretty way to go, nor is it painless. Thankfully, however, the creature's attention was now on her instead of me, or it might've just chosen to lop off my head then and there.

"Do not fight me, Evelyn, my dear," the thing said in a mild voice. "Or I shall not shy from punishing you worse than I did before."

"My name's not _Evelyn, _you mutant freak," Shara informed it, whipping out her greatbow and nocking an arrow to the string. "And you aren't 'punishing' anybody today!" She loosed with a loud cry, and I felt an extreme wave of gratitude towards her. Good old Shara. She always managed to come through for you.

...To my disbelief and great disappointment, however, the arrow went straight through the keeplord without even harming it.

Shara squeaked, put up another arrow, then apparently thought better of it, because she dropped her bow. "Just... just leave Llednar alone, okay? I'll go with you if you let him live!"

"Bargains will do you little good, my dear," the creature commented, pressing its sword closer to the side of my throat, where I could feel my blood pounding along the sharp line of pain. The hot dark fluid was already starting to leak down my skin. "He dies and you come with me, willingly or no. You are mine, woman, _mine._"

Just as I thought everything was over for me, I saw a streak of bright color slam into the keeplord's side, instants before Marche sliced the thing into fine cubes of rotten meat. "You two alright!" he asked, breathing hard, his blue eyes wide with concern.

"Thank God," Shara said with a sigh. She edged over to me, kneeling beside me with a nearly tearful expression. "Do you think you're going to be okay?"

I nodded slowly, realizing that I was only aiding my bloodletting as I did. "Y-yeah. I'll be fine now. I even think... I think that my headache's going away too." It was true. The pressure that had seemed to settle over my entire body had started to let up at the moment that Marche had taken the keeplord down.

As I spoke, Roland was over with a feverish mix of curses, medication, and thin linen bandages that he wrapped expertly in a circle around my throat, with an exasperated Chelney and a distracted Montblanc at his side.

While Chelney joined Roland in scolding me for my recklessness, Montblanc headed over to the sword which the keeplord had dropped.

"This is it," he said in a hushed, awed voice similar to the one he'd spoken in when he'd recognized Gaol. "I'm sure of it, kupo. The Ayvuir Red. Gaol and Evelyn have been avenged, and this is our reward."

Marche wordlessly picked up the blade and headed over to me. With an effort, I shook my head.

"It's yours," I said in a low voice, knowing the truth of the words. "I already wield the swords meant for me. Ayvuir is yours."

There was a rumble in the distance, and a droplet of water splashed against the bloodred sword, followed by handfuls, then sheets more, drenching us all.

"Let's get out of here," Roland said in an annoyed tone of voice. "We don't need Llednar even sicker than he already is. Come on."

And so we trudged back off in the general direction of Cyril. Along the way, Shara suddenly took my hand in hers and squeezed it.

"Don't you scare me like that ever again," she whispered.

I smiled crookedly. "I'll try, okay? Don't you, either."

"I won't if you won't," she replied, and the hand-holding turned into a half-hug before either of us really knew what was going on. If any of the others were amused, they concealed their smiles, but they were of no consequence, so we ignored them.

Finally... it was all over.


	20. Twin Swords

Shadowed Heart--Part 20

(see disclaimer in Part 16)

Author's Note: So here we are. Chapter 20.

In all honesty I wasn't sure if we were going to make it this far, but as I said, here we are. You've listened to me for this long. Amazing. That's three sagas so far, and your interest hasn't dwindled. You've been hanging around for longer than my previous history with stories has given me along the lines of confidence in my writing skill. Keh. (Hint, hint. Review my stuff.)

At the moment I'm writing this, I have, to the best of my knowledge, sixty-six reviews. Sixty-six is a lot, especially when your record of reviews on the other long story you have completed is 12. Here's to hoping you'll all be around for a lot more. I for one know there's going to be a lot more coming. A lot, a lot.

FF-Net has certainly improved a few things since I started. Bold, italics, and underlining are no longer edited out, although tabs and URLs now are. We have these new things called C2 communites that I'm still trying to figure out. More types of documents are being accepted, although we have yet to see MS Works around. You've improved too. As in, you're reading my stuff. Thanks for putting up with my random babble every chapter, by the way.

Just went DDRing so I'm still slightly happy, especially since Alice is still around in Extreme and the new American version of Extreme-Max2. All schools should have a DDRing program. It is positive and helps foster... umm... activity in even the biggest couch potatoes of anime fans.

OK, we're going to round out the Hero saga now, and maybe rock your world a tiny little bit. (wink wink) If you don't read this through, you'll be forever wondering what I mean, so please do.

Oh, and if you have the time, read and review my minific collection, Snow. I just put up a new chapter (OMG WTF, right?) which is mildly yuri and needs attention. (shoves you in its general direction) Here you are then! Don't eat the computer out of impatience, they don't agree very well with human digestion. Enjoy!

"This thing is so cool," Marche gushed, swinging Ayvuir around for what had to be the thousandth time that day.

I groaned. "Stuff it, would you? I'm sick of hearing about how blasted _cool _your freaking sword is! Get over it! Either that, or marry the damn thing!"

"Someone's in a bad mood," he said, still unable to get the slap-happy grin off his face.

"Yes, someone is. Someone is actually still sick and did not get very much sleep because he was being sat on and babied by Roland, not to mention spoonfed his pepper tea every five seconds!" I actually liked Roland's healing teas, but staying up all night just to drink them wasn't my idea of fun. "So someone doesn't want to hear you babbling any longer, or else he will make you eat the sword you're so proud of!"

"You suck," Marche pouted with a wry smile, going off to bother someone else. I sighed and leaned back against the back of my chair, going back to polishing every inch of SaveTheQueen. I had just gotten through with cleaning ExcaliburII and sand-scouring my Maximillian red double-mail jacket. The layering of the chain links made it harder for arrows to get through, and the red metal did a fine job of deflecting a lot of damage that ordinary attacks would have done. Now that the whole Gaol deal was over, I was being given a chance to actually take care of my equipment for once, and I was going to enjoy it before I had to go back to the town of St. Ivalice.

It seemed that Marche had been gone only five minutes before he came blasting back in with a look of mixed disbelief and annoyance on his face.

"What is it _this _time!" I cried to the ceiling.

Marche waved a small sheet of paper in the air before handing it to me.

" 'Seeing Gaol die horribly before his very eyes, Lini took his sword into the Eluut Sands to await the one worthy to wield it. The Hero Gaol, epilogue'. Holy--there's more!" The writing of this mission note was in cerulean blue, and there was a handwritten postscript penned at the corner of the page. " 'Sorry for the trouble but this is the last one. Really. -Gaol'. Joy. I hope he means it now."

"I guess we're going to the Eluut desert then," Marche said with a helpless shrug. "If it's really the last mission then we'd better get it over with now, right? You're feeling well enough to come, I hope."

Standing, I stretched. "Be still, my heart. Of course. You don't think I'd let you go running off without me, would you?"

"Okay then, let's get everybody together," Marche replied happily. "You know? I bet that the place we're headed is around the location of that hidden moogle village we discovered awhile back, before you joined. It'll be fun to go back there again..."

---

The six of us--me, Marche, Montblanc, Shara, Roland, and Chelney--were almost to the point of the village when Montblanc shook his head and pointed to an area slightly to the north of the tiny town.

"If we're going where I think, that's the place we should be headed, kupo," he said quietly.

"Montblanc...?" Marche asked uneasily, but the moogle just started walking towards the place he'd indicated, not saying anything more. Since we didn't know where else to go, we followed him.

Unfortunately, as soon as we reached the area, a small party of hardbitten moogle warriors got in our way.

"Who do you think you are, kupo!" their leader, a mog knight, snapped. "How dare you desecrate the brave Lini's grave!"

His companions all brandished weapons with angry cries.

"What do you think you're trying to do, denying _me _access from this place?" Montblanc replied, sounding outraged. "Don't you know who I am, kupo!"

The strange mog knight and his companions looked at each other, and then back at him.

Montblanc head-slumped.

"You... you don't know! Has it really been so long since Nono and I moved away! Kupooooh..."

"Uhh, what're you talking about, man?" Marche wanted to know. "You know this guy?"

"I lived here when I was a boy, kupo!" Montblanc exploded, sounding quite frustrated indeed. "But this _complete and total idiot _doesn't seem to remember. No-be-el," he said in an almost-whine, "how can you be such a dolt?"

The mog knight named Nobel was busy giving Montblanc a shrewd inspection. "Is it really you, kupopo? You're really who I think? If so, then why doesn't this boy know about you?"

"Is it too much to want to be treated like a normal person, kupo?" Montblanc asked flatly. "The two people I founded this clan with know who I am. One of them's dead and the other is sworn to secrecy. They didn't act as though the ground I walk on is sacred. The others might. And Marche here... he's too much of my friend to want to start on it."

"So why are you back here, kupokupo, if you don't mind my asking?" Nobel said warily.

"We've come for Ayvuir Blue, kupo. We received information that it was here from the most reliable source there is."

Nobel and his company gaped. "You can't do that!"

Montblanc jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Marche and myself. "These two are Gaol's successors. They have a right to that sword. And if you want to stop them from taking it..." He pushed his swordblade a few inches out of its sheath. "Well, then."

Nobel scowled and pulled his own sword, which was layered in the shape of a lightning bolt. "You can't try to pull rank on this one, old friend. We have a duty to defend this place, no matter who the intruder is!"

Montblanc gave an exaggerated sigh and gave all of us an apologetic look. "Give me a moment, please, to handle the small fries, kupo."

"Not without me you don't," Chelney snapped, cracking her knuckles.

And the two of them went in.

All of us only had to watch.

It was slightly sad, to tell the truth. Although the moogles might have been counted as powerful within their own circle of allies, as far as our standards went, they were complete weaklings.

Montblanc and Chelney, armed with their sword and knife, happily carved them up, starting with the enemy animist and gunner, who could've caused trouble if left unchecked. They then proceeded to the time mage and black mage, who attempted to defend themselves with a few weak spells that were easily sidestepped by their attackers. Watching, I was almost embarrassed for their sake.

The two moogles looked at each other, then headed for Nobel and the other mog knight. Montblanc knocked Nobel's head with the pommel of his sword, and Chelney bashed the other poor fool with her interlaced knuckles. The mog knight whose name I didn't know dropped; Nobel crashed to his knees.

"Where is it, kupo?" Montblanc asked calmly. "Don't make it harder on yourself."

Nobel grunted. "My apologies for my suspicions, Lord Shiralini... I thought... take the blade." He pulled a sheathed sword from the back of his armor and handed it over.

"Waitaminute..." I blurted aloud. "Lord? Montblanc? A lord? And 'Shiralini'? What's all this about?"

Montblanc sighed as he headed back, handing the new sword to Marche. "Here, kupo. Ayvuir Blue. Your twin blade." Grimacing, he sat down in the sand. "I suppose I have a lot to tell all of you, and you'll have to forgive me for not explaining this sooner."

---

"Montblanc is my family name. As Nobel just told you, my real name is Shiralini de Montblanc, sixteenth lord of the House of Montblanc, current Knight of the Blue Rose. Heir to the legend of Gaol in my own way, for as you may have noticed, kupo, I am named for Lini, who was the founder of this house.

"After my father passed away, my mother moved Nono and myself to live in Cyril, kupo, which is where we met Miserie and Gelarto, the only two who know who I really am. Neuman joined us when we decided to start up our new clan... he had no idea. None of us really wanted to tell, kupo, because people generally make a big deal out of it when you're descended from a hero.

"This is why it disturbed me so much to see those missions posted about Gaol's story. Being from the establishment of the Rose, which is the knighthood founded in honor of Gaol and his journeys, I knew that we hadn't posted them, and there was too much coincidence involved for it to be some fanboy's idea of a tribute. It's because of me, as much because of Marche and Llednar, that we were sought out, kupo. I understand Gaol's reasoning. A biskmatar, his powerful friend, a moogle associated with that friend, and his quote-unquote 'lover'... a quartet that was needed to fulfill the legend.

"I hope you aren't too angry with me for all I've kept from you, kupo," he finished. "I... I like having friends who treat me like an actual person."

"Why would we be angry?" Marche asked him. Giving me a quick look, he made a face. "Except for Llednar and Shara, that is... you've helped us all out so much, and taught me to be myself... why would it be a bad thing? I understand what it's like to want to keep something out of the way, like my not originally being from this Ivalice. I thought that was something to be ashamed of at first."

Our moogle companion smiled wryly. "Thank you, kupo. Since you still want me around... would you all continue to call me 'Montblanc', please? I've gotten rather used to it after all this time."

"Of course," Roland said softly. "We'll respect your wishes." Suddenly, he grinned. "But don't expect any more than _that. _Never forget that we know all your _bad _sides."

Montblanc shuddered. "I never do, kupokupo..."

"Now that that's settled," Marche said happily, discarding his second katana and slipping the second Ayvuir's sheath into its place. "Let's get out of here... after all, Llednar and I have to go home soon, and I want to hear some stories about how things went for you in the desert and in Cyril."

"Any silly incidences you want to know, you can hear, my friend," Montblanc replied almost gravely, although his sparkling eyes gave him away.

We headed back along the path to Cyril, laughing as we did.

Although those trials were over, however, that was the time at which the bells of war began to ring, sending out a warning of something that was going to change all of us forever...


	21. The Minstrel

Shadowed Heart--Part 21

(DISCLAIMER #4: I do not own FFTA, or the characters Ztir and Ujuidar, who belong to fellow authoress Love Star. My clan characters are my own and may not be used without permission. Likewise, Kumo also, quite sadly, belongs to Square, though I'm borrowing him for a bit. But since they don't seem to want him, I doubt they'll mind. Therefore, do not sue me, or my muses will eat you.)

Author's Note: (laughing wickedly) The disclaimer hath given you a taste of things to come! Tremble in fear and anticipation! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!

How much did the whole Montblanc thing surprise you? I know it was kind of a shocker as I did not build it up too much, but there are some big ol' hints to it in the Hero saga. Tee hee hee!

We are on to Saga Number Four, the Redwings saga. It is going to take about a million years to complete, as players who have completed the Redwings saga know all too well. Like I said, crossover chaos shall come... as you may have guessed, seeing as I am going to incorporate Love Star's characters Ztir and Ujuidar, as well as Final Fantasy: Unlimited's Kumo, into all of this somehow. Things you can look forward to here...

-Obviously, the appearance of Ztir and Ujuidar. Those who have read "Stray Ends" know that in Love Star's version of things, they were created by Llednar in his efforts to carry out a mysterious plan. Here, however, their role will differ slightly... how? Well, you'll just have to wait for a few chapters until I stick them in... (laughs maniacally; dodges toaster)

-The mysterious minstrel revealed! He he he! I am so mean.

-Kumo! Kumo-chan, Kumo-chan, Kumo-chan... (sigh) or Makenshi as some of you may know him. He is the cutest thing I have ever seen. And the sweetest. Yes, he is (gasp!) even cuter than Llednar. If you disagree with me, then obviously you have never seen his smile. But why is he here? Oh, you'll figure it out soon enough. (grin grin) (Quick note to Rau: Kumo is cute because he is INNOCENT. You, on the other hand, are a hottie. And jaded. Kumo is like a baby brother; you are my bishie.) Sigh. Evangelion999 is prolly the only one who knows what in the world I'm talking about...

-Nina the smartass assassin.

-The significance of Llednar's pendant. Remember that?

-Fighting, drama, and a little kawaii romance on the side. Of course.

-Evil stuff. And not Remedi. (gasp, shock, faint)

That should probably be enough to keep you around! (grin, dodges flying kitchen objects) Now let's get going before the mob of angry reviewers hacks off my head!

We were all just hanging out in the main inn as usual when it happened.

We'd decided to put off coming back until everyone was able, and so it had been two months since we'd seen all our friends. On the upside, Ritz, Mewt, and Doned were with us. And Ezel, absent for the same space of time working on new trinkets, was back as well, along with a stack of antilaws for me and apologies that he hadn't been able to give them to me when the laws against my abilities had gotten in the way. I felt at once grateful and guilty, remembering how I had been angry at him when I'd gotten stuck at that time.

At any rate, we were all there, joking and laughing and having fun, when the doors burst open and a harried-looking viera messenger burst in.

"Urgent request for the aid of Clan Dragon," she gasped, nearly collapsing. "An infestation of bombs has entered Cadoan! If we don't get someone's help fast, the town will burn!"

I stood up instantly. "Shara, we'd better get going!"

She nodded, gripping her bow.

"I'll come too," Mewt insisted, standing along with us. "You'll need a healer to take care of the wounded!"

None of us wasted any time arguing--besides, we all knew he was right.

---

By the time we got to Cadoan, it was a mess.

Bombs were all over the place--there had to be at least eight. Thankfully, they didn't seem to be too strong; however, the large bomb in the middle, twice the size of the little ones, was much more powerful. I could tell that just by one glance... it seemed to be the leader.

"Shimatta," Shara growled under her breath. (A/N: Japanese lesson of the day--Shimatta means "hang it" and is used along with "kuso" and "che" as an all-purpose curse.) "That's a mother bomb... these little ones are its spawn. They really will burn this place down if we don't get rid of them!"

"Then what are we waiting for?" Mewt demanded. "Go! I'll back you up with magic, so don't worry about getting hit!"

"Right," I called, then dove into the swirling mass of flames.

The little bombs were easy enough to deal with; they just took a few slashes to dispatch. Shara, over on her end, was doing just as well as I was with her arrows. Even so, it was taking us a while to head to the bombess in the center, and we were both getting little burns that were starting to add up.

As we stood before the behemoth, we suddenly realized that Mewt was out of range of healing. We were knee-deep in crap with this.

I launched forward first, having half a mind to blast the creature with a Life Render; however, when I got close, I realized I had no desire to burn my feet kicking the beast, even protected by my biskmatar powers. Instead, I flung out a hand with a cry to cast Abyss.

The bomb slashed one of its flaming hands, and the cloud of poisoned air dissipated.

"Crap," I yelped, jumping back to Shara's side.

"What are we gonna do now?" she hissed to me. "Dumbass! We should've asked Montblanc or somebody to come too! Ice would be really helpful right now!"

"You guys, move!" came a cry from Mewt. Wary, Shara and I sprang apart and back, but the bomb didn't seem to have tried to attack us.

"Why--" I started to ask him.

And then something hit the bomb.

When I say "hit", I mean "came flying into it at a thousand miles an hour". I don't even know what the hell it was... just that it was long, white, and left the monster reeling, squalling in pain.

Before I managed to recover from the shock, an unfamiliar form came dashing past us, slashing at the creature with a broadsword about half its height.

The bomb shrieked... and exploded.

The stranger cried out, flung his sword in front of him, and seemed to create a sort of... force field... out of the defensive strike. This field managed to shield him, Shara, and me until the blast weakened and the last scraps of bomb hide clattered around us, allowing me my first clear look at him.

He was a young man dressed all in white--a very _tall _young man in white (he had to be nearly if not six feet!)--with green eyes that seemed more jade-colored than Ritz's emerald ones. I'd been sure that his strange weapon was a broadsword, but now it seemed more like the oddest longsword I'd ever seen, with no crosspiece and a white blade undiscernible from its hilt except in color. He seemed human except for the fact that he had seven straight gray spikes protruding from just above his forehead, with his short white hair fluffed around them. A pale ribbon was fixed to the thin cloth choker he was wearing, which hung lifelessly down his back. He was also, I soon observed, exhausted--panting heavily and trembling. For a moment I thought I saw a white substance condensing in the air around his face, but I must've been mistaken, for the next second it was no longer there. There was a wound that seemed to go clear through his body a little below his ribs on his left side, and the bloodstain surrounding it stretched from his chest to his lower abdomen and was spreading along his side.

Just then, the strength that had carried him this far seemed to desert him, and he collapsed, his knees crumpling and sending him heavily to the ground with a soft cry of distress. Shara and I hurried to support him on either side.

"Hey, are you alright!" I asked, concerned. "You don't look so good!"

Shara nailed me with her most irritated glare. "Of course he's not alright. Someone's run him through, and he still managed to make it here to help us out! Sir, you need a healer right away!"

As she said the words, Mewt was beside us, hands outstretched and starting to glow white. "Move," he said tersely. We did. Planting both hands on the stranger's wounded side, he began to concentrate, giving off a powerful aura of purity. "Who gave you this? What happened to you? You're all in--I can't believe you came running in here like you did! Are you crazy? You could've died of blood loss just trying to fight!"

"Doesn't matter," he managed between deep gasps. His voice was of medium tone--not deep but not too high, either, and it had the sound of... I don't know, of the sky to it. "I have... a message..."

"Easy," I said softly. "Give it a minute. It can wait, can't it?"

He gave me a despairing look, his strange jade-colored eyes suddenly wry. "I suppose, but it's... rather important..." He winced suddenly as Mewt probed his wound.

"I can deal with this for the moment," he said softly. "However, there's damage to your internal organs that I can't fix on my own. A friend of ours can. Would you like us to take you there? After you're healed, you can give us your message. By the way, my name is Mewt, and these are my friends Llednar and Shara."

The stranger inclined his head to us in gratitude. The gesture seemed strangely formal and out of date when given by him. "I am Kumo, known to some as Makenshi." I stared, working out the translation of his name. That meant "wielder of the demon sword"... who _was _this guy? (A/N: For those of you who have never seen Final Fantasy: Unlimited... "Maken" is the name of Kumo's sword. "Makenshi" is his title. His real name, Kumo, means "cloud".)

"Let's get you out of here," Mewt said softly, helping to haul this 'Kumo' to his feet. Helplessly, Shara and I followed.

"What's going on here?" Shara hissed to me.

"You're asking me as if I have some clue," I replied ironically. "I don't, remember? That guy'll tell us, once Roland finishes dealing with him."

Shara shook her head, looking worried. "He didn't come so far for nothing," she whispered back. "Have you ever seen anyone like him at all? He isn't human, but he isn't any race I know of, either. And he's dead beat, soaked in blood and sweat and really dirty. When I touched his hand his skin felt so cold! He's been traveling for a long time in that condition."

"This must really be serious, then," I said softly, watching as Mewt helped him to walk ahead. He was leaning heavily on the white mage, and looking as though he felt badly for having to make Mewt bear most of his weight. "I hope he can hold on long enough to tell us what's happened."

---

Kumo passed out as soon as we got him back to the Prancing Chocobo--just collapsed into a painful-looking sprawl on the floor, slipping out of Mewt's grasp. Roland, who'd been at the bar, spat out what looked like half a gallon of cider, then raced to the unconscious swordsman's side.

"I did all that I could while I was there," Mewt said, shamefaced. "I never learned enough to treat damage to the organs."

Roland, looking up at us, shook his head. "It's a good thing you did," he said seriously. "Mewt, you're all that kept him alive on the way here. I can tell just by looking at him that he's barely clinging to life. Whoever gave him this--" he indicated the terrible wound in Kumo's torso "--meant to kill him and nearly succeeded. Without treatment it'd slowly prove fatal."

"Who would do that here in Ivalice?" Shara asked in a voice that was barely a whisper.

"I don't think he's from around here," Roland told us, starting up a ball of healing in the palm of his hand and gently touching it to the wound. "He just... doesn't look like it. Have you ever seen anyone or anything like this poor kid?"

"Kid?" I interrupted.

"From the growth of certain organs and my cursory inspection, I'd say he's just about sixteen," Roland said tightly, already beginning to work.

"Holy crap, that's one tall kid," I managed, staring. Kumo made me feel short, and if he was only around Marche and Ritz's age...

"Yet another reason he can't be from Ivalice," Shara said staunchly. "You don't even find many bangaa pushing six feet at sixteen. They get their final growth spurts around eighteen..."

"So maybe he's from another world like us?" Mewt said hesitantly. "Or another country in this world?"

"Maybe," was all that Roland said. After that, he just levered Kumo into his arms and started to take him back into the infirmary of the inn so that he could start working on that wound.

---

It took a few days, but in the end, Roland finally managed to heal Kumo's near-mortal wound.

"Do me a favor, okay?" he managed weakly as he tottered out of the sickroom. "Stop bringing in the hard cases. I'm going to go sleep for a few weeks. If someone comes for me, tell them I'm under a spell or something. Or sick. Yeah. That. Goodnight." And off he went.

Marche, Ritz, Mewt, Doned, Montblanc, Shara, and I wound up in Kumo's room, keeping watch.

About an hour or so after Roland went to go crash, he started to wake.

Trembling with the effort, he opened his eyes with a soft moan. "Where am I...?"

Marche reached out to touch his shoulder and steady him. "You're in the town of Cyril in Ivalice," he said gently. "My name is Marche, and I'm the leader of Clan Dragon. You told those of my friends who found you that you had a message of great importance, but you were badly wounded, and so we brought you back here into the care of our healer, Roland. He just finished working on you a little while ago... he's resting now. You're going to be perfectly all right... you're lucky."

Kumo nodded gratefully, slowly bringing himself to sit up. "Luckier than you and your people, I'm afraid to say. I am only a messenger, and so I can only give you my message. I am in Ivalice... that is the only way I know that this is the right place and time to give you this news." He closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly, gravely, with an intensity that did not match his youth. "Your land and people are about to come under attack by an enemy army, known as the Redwings, who deal in evil... in Chaos." I'm not sure how, but I knew that the word "chaos" had a capital letter the way Kumo said it. "If you do not band together, and quickly, all of Ivalice will fall. They come in... in revenge for the deeds of Clan Dragon against Clan Borzoi... your towns will be decimated, your people enslaved, if you do not fight back, and quickly."

Marche's brow furrowed. "Clan Borzoi? That no-good pack of imbeciles we cleared out of Ivalice awhile ago? Curses take them and their kin... they're here for revenge, you say? This is a problem... you're sure?"

Kumo nodded once again. "I was sent."

"You know the one who sent you isn't lying?"

"She never lies." To him, it seemed as simple as that.

"If 'she' is such a good person, why were you in such a crappy condition when we found you?" Ritz demanded, hands on her hips.

Kumo shook his head. "A battle... with my greatest foe. I thought I had been killed, but she was able to save me because she needed a messenger. If she hadn't, she would have been forced to watch me die. We were both lucky."

"If you say so," Ritz replied, quirking one eyebrow. "So, Mewt... you gonna go tell the queen about this? Seems she's the person to go straight to, since she's in charge of defense and all."

Mewt nodded. "Anyone want to come with me?" He looked to me. "Llednar?"

I held up my hands. "No, thank you. Knowing Remedi, she's still pissed at me for the whole Makoto thing. Take Babus with you. He's more believable than I am."

"That's a good idea. I will." He left.

"You need rest," Marche told Kumo, who was obviously struggling just to stay awake. "You came very near to losing your life, and you've got to recover. We'll be downstairs in the main pub if you need any of us." He bowed slightly in thanks.

Kumo returned the tiny bow. "You have my thanks for helping me," he said weakly, then collapsed back into the bedsheets, exhausted.

"Let's get out of here," Shara said. "We're gonna wake him up if we stay."

And so we filed out of the room, guilty faced.

---

It was the music that drew my attention over to the corner.

Someone was playing a wind instrument--a flute or ocarina--and not just playing a piece on it, but telling a story with it. A story sweet and sad and yearning, expressing crushing grief in pure shaking notes. Although Shara was sitting right next to me, I couldn't stop myself from beginning to cry.

"What is it?" she asked, concerned. I shook my head, letting out a sob. I couldn't explain it when I wasn't completely sure myself.

There. Sitting in the corner, up sooner than any of us would have thought, was Kumo. He was dressed in clothes similar to the ones he'd been in, but the tightly wrapped bandages below his ribs were visible beneath them. He had raised a silver flute to his lips and was playing his heart out--crystal tears were caught in his long eyelashes and tracing lines down his cheeks.

Unable to call a halt to my behavior, I dashed to the side of the room and took down my violin case, which I'd been dragging back and forth between Ivalice and the real world. Opening it, I tightened my bow, quickly tuned my fine black instrument, set it to my shoulder, and waited.

The strain of the tune just came to me, though it was constantly changing. As soon as I was sure of it, I began to play. People started staring, looking back and forth between the weeping flutist and me, still trying to fight back the tears that were coming.

As I played, images began to flash through my mind. A small child in white, set apart from others because of a heavy destiny laid upon his shoulders. Fleeting memories of sweetness; a red form curled in rapture with his. This fierce man in red with his face twisted into bitterness. Anguish. The purest kind of anguish. Murdering the one he loved, with tears on his face as he dealt the blow. A man in black. Pain and confusion as a friendship curdled on crumbling foundations of memory.

Taking the hand of that man in their united death, a sacrifice to seal a hateful void for eternity.

Holding the red-clad young man in his arms as he died... his brother? Lover? Perhaps, in a way, both. The death of joy as the death of the one closest to him.

The story crescendoed into a series of repeated chords, fractured arpeggios, phrases, and recurring B flats. What Kumo was playing was different from what I was at times, but also sometimes the same. And when finally it did end, there was still a hush of expectation as the entirety of the pub watched the strange duet conclude.

I let my violin slide from my shoulder and put it back on the table, setting the bow beside it. Across the room, Kumo was putting away his flute. I had given in and allowed myself to cry a long time ago; Kumo's silent tears continued. We looked up at each other; our eyes met. Almost desperately, Kumo tried a smile. It twisted; a tear that had rested at his cheekbone slipped down his face and dripped to the floor. And I understood.

The images I had seen were Kumo's memories.

It was very likely that he had seen mine.

Letting out a hoarse sob, I stepped briskly toward him as he glided to me. We looked at each other, each steeped in the other's misery, and the look turned into a tight embrace.

He understood. And I understood him.

Where he had come from... who he was... I wasn't certain. But I did know that here was an ally, a good one. A friend.

From a far-off distance I felt Shara shyly putting her arms around us both. She knew.

We were...


	22. Reflections in the Heart of White Cloud

Shadowed Heart--Part 22

(see disclaimer in Part 21)

Author's Note: Yayy, squee! (huggles Kumo-chan) So now you've finally met him! (happy happy happy) I think I should've warned you that there were some spoilers back there for especially episodes 18, 24, and 25 of FF:U... but anyway. Yeah.

Why Kumo? Well, I needed a minstrel, and I didn't think I could get away with borrowing Lester from Sword of Mana... I mean, where would he have fit into all of that? There are already some parallels between FFTA and FF:U though, so I think using Kumo is not just acceptable but plausible. Remember the Reserve Mission called "My Mission" about the swordsman with no memory? There are also certain attacks and weapons that seem to be used in both the game and the anime. And in a way, Kumo really is a minstrel... all of his attacks are related to music. Besides, in case you haven't figured it out yet, I am an **OBSESSIVE FANGIRL. **And Kumo-chan is sooooo cute and huggable. (goes off on a babbling tangent again)

Evangelion999... yeah, I know what you mean. I get that weird craving to go back and relive good memories a lot, and I've watched Episode 18 so many times that I can recite it from memory. Line by line. No, I haven't read "After", but I want to SOOOOOO bad! If I could get ahold of a kanji or romaji copy, I could get my mom's friend (a music teacher who knows Japanese and loves Japan as much as I do) to translate it! Do you know how I could get a copy! Do you know anything about it besides the title? As in the plot? And what happens? And... gahhh...! (sob sob sob) I want it, I want it!

Okay, I'm getting off topic. The point is, Kumo is here now and he's gonna be around for a while. Those of you who don't like it can just suck it up and deal with it. He, like Llednar-kun, ish t3h cutez0r. End of discussion. Keh. On with the Redwings.

Mewt and Babus returned the next day.

"Well?" I asked as soon as they'd gotten settled. "How'd it go?"

Mewt shook his head, sitting down and running a hand through his frizzy hair. "I'm not sure..."

"What did she say?" Miserie, sitting beside me, asked.

Babus scowled. "She was not quite sure that she could believe this Kumo's story. However, she says she will put chains of countermeasures in effect just in case."

"Brilliant," I muttered into my mug of cider.

Although the truth was that most of us had taken Kumo's warning with a pinch of salt, somehow I found myself wanting to believe him. I couldn't be sure if it was just because of his skills as a flutist or not, but I felt that we definitely had something in common, something between us. He, too, was an outsider; due to his appearance and his silence after his performance the other night, the people of Cyril had taken to jokingly calling him the "Weird Minstrel". Out of shyness or dislike, he was now more withdrawn than ever, even though a lot of us had tried to tell them off.

"So now what?" Miserie wanted to know. Her brow was creased, and I could tell she was displeased by the way that one of her ears was pinned slightly back, like Shara's went whenever she was angry at me. "You know how much I hate sitting around."

"All we can do is wait," Mewt said helplessly. "Unless... Miserie, do you know anyone who might believe what Kumo said?"

Miserie blinked. "Huh?" She paused. "Um... maybe. I'd have to ask her. I have this friend... she might want to help whether she believes or not. She's in another clan, though... all the way in Muscadet. Clan Angel, run by a boy named Datenshi..." (A/N: True enough. That's my clan name and name for Marche in the save name where said character is from.)

Babus nodded. "That's good. Miserie, you should ask Marche's permission to talk to her. Perhaps you can get not only your friend but her entire clan here to help us. Somehow I think that these 'Redwings' are a threat that cannot be overcome by one clan alone."

"I'll go do that," she replied, and headed off to look for Marche.

I stood up too, having had enough of that.

"Where are you going?" Mewt asked from behind me.

"I don't know. To go see where Shara is, I guess."

"She left a while ago," Babus informed me.

"Then... I'm going to wander aimlessly until I find something useful to do. Don't bug me."

And I did. The milling crowds held no interest for me; neither did the squabbles of Neuman and Eleono, Daryle's whispered conversation with Roland, Marche and Ritz kissing in the corner, Nono teaching Doned card tricks... this was boring and I had the antsy feeling that something was going to happen at any minute. Somehow or other, I wound up heading into Kumo's room, maybe just for relief from the noise.

He was sitting up, devoid of a shirt, and apparently in the middle of changing his bandages. For the first time, I realized that his wound was still a mess. It was equal parts scab and still-raw regenerating flesh, with a few strained spaces showing through to the muscle beneath; these spaces were circled with little dots of blood. Roland had been able to repair the worst of the damage, and keep Kumo alive, but even he hadn't been able to fully heal the wound before running completely dry.

"That really looks painful," I said softly.

Kumo closed his eyes, and for a moment I was able to see through his calm and controlled facade to the agony beneath. "It is," he replied in a husky whisper, covering the injury with layers of bandage, both quickly and competently.

"Is there anything...?" I began to ask. "I mean... I know the healing herbs, and I think I might be able to make that go a little faster..."

"It's alright." Kumo tied off the bandage with well-practiced ease and looked back up at me.

"What happened to you that you're so badly hurt?" I asked worriedly. "Why won't you tell us?"

Kumo was silent for a long time. "I don't want to talk about it," he said finally, touching the wound with the tips of his fingers. "I'm sorry, but... I can't, not yet."

Despite the feeling of familiarity, there were times when I just couldn't figure this guy out. Sighing, I shook my head. "Well, I can't make you talk if you don't want to, but while you're here, we'll be here for you. Clan policy. We don't like leaving people who are hurt to suffer alone."

Kumo nodded, still quiet.

I paused, then sat down in a chair at the side of the room. "It's true? You're only sixteen?"

Kumo paused for a while, then nodded. "I think so." Seeing my look of confusion, he grimaced. "I lost track of time while I was at war. And then... I slept for almost twelve years... but I didn't age at all. And I have no idea how long it took this time." He stared at his hands, looking embarrassed.

"That's okay," I assured him. "But all the same... you're just a kid like us then, really. But you don't act like us, or talk like us."

"I had to grow up fast," was all Kumo gave as an explanation. Once again, it seemed I had trodden into forbidden territory.

"If I'm being too nosy, just tell me to shut up and I will," I offered. Kumo just looked at me, then shook his head with a wry smile. "What?"

"Nothing. You remind me of someone, that's all." And there was no talking to him after that, so we just sat in silence.

With nothing better to do, I just decided to study Kumo some more. It seemed almost impossible that he'd attacked the bomb with such power and ferocity the day before, looking at him now. It was true that he was tall, but he was slender rather than built, almost wispy. His muscles were toned, but they had almost no definition, and you had to look closely to tell that his body wasn't just in a state of atrophy. His face was young, even though the world-weary look in his eyes was anything but. He always seemed to have a sad and distant look to him, as though his mind was somewhere far away, and the rest of him wanted to go there too but couldn't. He was lonely. I remembered being that way far too well.

"Did they believe me?" Kumo asked suddenly. I blinked, not sure what he meant. "That boy... your friend Mewt... he went to tell those in authority of my message... did they believe me?"

I shrugged. "Well... umm... I wasn't there, so I'm not entirely sure... the queen's going to have a backup plan to employ the second she gets solid proof. Or something like that. She's a shrewd person, but she won't totally throw out a warning that sounds as desperate as yours does."

Kumo stared at the wall, a pensive expression on his face. "The Redwings are no idle threat. Their leader, a half-human named Grissolm, can only be overcome with the power of an artifact called the Spiritstone, which is a jewel in the shape of a soul that links the power of the elements. He commands legions of not only the sentient races, but magically altered monsters as well. Please hear my words. If he is not stopped when he arrives, he will decimate Ivalice." He looked straight at me, and something about his eyes made a chill flash down my back. That was it--they seemed to be reflecting the light of something, because the iris and pupil had switched colors. "Only the Sages can create a Spiritstone, and the means of its making are locked within the powers of the Redwings' most fearsome generals... the Falgabirds four... they will... destroy... you must warn them..." Suddenly he was breathing in sharp, shallow gasps, his eyes closing, his face flushed. "Kiri... warn them..."

"Are you alright!" I carefully made my way to his side. As soon as I was standing next to him, he clung to me, half-seeming as if he was drowning. I winced--his hands were scalding hot. "You're feverish! Lie down! Let me go a moment... I'll go get some athelas, some muscmaloi... you're sick!" I paused, realizing something. "Wait... _Kiri?"_

I never got an answer to the half-spoken question--Kumo's death grip on me loosened, and he slipped back onto the bed, unconscious.

---

As Roland, cursing, undid the bandages that bound Kumo's wound, I did my best to repeat what he'd told me about the Redwings. "I don't understand half of what he's talking about, but still. It sounded pretty serious to me. What do we do now?"

Ezel, looking unusually serious, shook his head. "The Sages... I've heard rumors about them. Three human alchemists and spiritualists with the powers to bind the elements themselves. But they've been in seclusion for years now. No one's heard from them directly for quite a long time."

Marche grimaced. "There are only two ways he could know all this. One, the person who sent him, whoever it is, is really genuine. Two, he's insane. The latter of which... I think we can rule out. He seems pretty sane to me."

"So the Redwings are definitely real," Ritz announced with a shrug. "Doesn't matter as long as we kick their tails, right?"

"But Kumo told us that their leader can only be defeated in the presence of this Spiritstone thing," Marche reminded her. "And that only the Sages can create one... in addition, the secrets to making one are kept by generals called Falgabirds in the Redwings' army. This seems as though it's getting more serious by the minute." Shaking his head, he turned to Roland. "So how did he get so sick in such a short length of time?"

Roland made a face. "It's what I was hoping wouldn't happen. When his wound was still open, he managed to contract an infection throughout his intestinal system. That's almost impossible to heal, as well as way out of my skill level. If he doesn't get help from one of the White Adepts, he's got a zero-percent chance of survival. Intestinal infections spread through the body like brushfire. This is gonna wreak havoc on his body, and right now, he is the equivalent to a ticking time bomb. He needs Adept-level help. NOW."

Marche nodded. "Ritz, find Daryle. See if she'll run a message to the White council of healers in Cadoan. Have Montblanc and Chelney provide an escort." Ritz turned and dashed back out into the hall in a flash of white hair and pink dress. "We can only hope that Queen Remedi gets some not-so-dangerous solid evidence pretty soon, or we may not be able to set in a defense."

---

Within a few hours, Miserie returned with her friend from Clan Angel. Shara had arrived along with her.

The friend was a viera assassin with a skin tone resembling warm coffee. Her uniform was the black-purple color of a shadow, and her eyes were dark brown in contrast to her crisp cream-white hair.

"This is our friend Nina Rodriguez," Miserie told us. "She's come with a pledge of alliance from Clan Angel, and we've come with news. Bad news."

"It's good to meet you, Miss Rodriguez," Marche said with a slight bow. "What is it you have to tell us?"

"A few hours ago, a trio of _locos _attacked Cadoan," she said bluntly. Her speech was heavily accented, blocky and kind of clicky. I guessed that she had some other mother tongue that influenced the way she talked. "It was easy to take them down, but they claim to be part of a foreign clan called the Redwings."

"It's already begun," I mused. I must have said it aloud, because I found everyone staring at me.

The door behind us opened, and I heard Roland's voice. "Llednar, Kumo's asking for you."

I bowed myself out and headed into the room, feeling numb. Now what? Could this situation get any more tense than it already was?

Kumo, lying on his back, had his hands clasped over something shining at his heart. Whatever it was cast its glow over his entire body, making him seem to shine a faint crimson. As I walked up to him, he opened his eyes weakly and moved one hand to grip mine. When he spoke, I had to lean in to catch his voice, weak as it was.

"Marilith Serpent... Falgabird of... fire and brimstone... has been... seen at Roda Volcano... your duty is clear..." He squeezed my hand for a brief moment. "God..speed..."

And he was unconscious again. From his loosened right hand, a dull red stone dropped to the floor, its light spent.


	23. The Fire Sigil

Shadowed Heart--Part 23

(see disclaimer in Part 21)

Author's Note: Oh, and I forgot to warn you. There will also be a few select character crossovers from Tales of Symphonia, as I find myself falling into a love affair with that game. Don't worry, the cameos will not require extensive knowledge of the storyline, and you may not even recognize the, oh, two or three characters I'm going to pull. Let's just say there were more roles that needed to be filled, and I didn't really feel like giving them to faceless extras. Tales of Symphonia and all their peoples belong to Namco, which is another company of RPG gods. :D Depending on if all those roles can be filled, I may also be pulling characters from certain other media as well... (laughs evilly; is bricked)

Story now. Gwargle. Intelligent thought deserts me for the author's note. Maybe I oughtta stop putting so much effort into em...

---

"WHAT?"

"There's no other choice for me _but _to believe him," I said with a sigh, taking off my hat to run a hand through my hair. "Will you look at the thing he was holding? How did he get that, if not from some oracle using him to speak those words?" I'd given my clanmates the little red stone that Kumo had pressed to his heart while he delivered his message. "And he was right about the Redwings, wasn't he? I don't think we've got much time for this one!"

Marche finally nodded, tossing the little stone back to me. "You're convinced, then?" I nodded as stubbornly as I could. "If you're sure... we'd better get some people out there. Llednar, Ritz, Mewt... and I'll be going too. Any other volunteers?"

Shara stepped up, looking as adamant as I felt. "If Llednar's going, I am too."

Eleono, playing with her sword, came beside her. "I haven't had any fun for a while. Let me come with you, too. Estreledge here is anxious to see what this so-called Falgabird's blood tastes like."

"Okay." Marche nodded. "Shara and Eleono too, then. Let's go kick some tail."

---

I'd never been to Roda Volcano myself, but I'd heard the stories like the others. And they were mostly true, too, which is saying something especially for the lot I run with. Not to give them a bad name or anything, but Neuman, Chelney, and Nono especially tend to exaggerate.

Roda, a mountain relatively close to Bervenia and Ivalice's western shore, was a fully active volcano, and although it didn't erupt often, its sides ran with lava rivers.

Atop a hilly section of the lower mountain, a flaming-red Lamia waited, surrounded by a squadron of mog knight guards. Marilith, undoubtedly.

"Halt, kupo!" one of the guards cried. "Who do you think you are, kupo? You're in the presence of Her Grace, Falgabird of flame!"

"The Lamia is a duchess?" Mewt asked skeptically in a whisper for our ears only. "No way." Ritz snickered, as did Shara, and Eleono turned a smirk into a cough rather awkwardly.

"What are you here for?" Marche called in challenge. "As a representative of Clan Redwings, no doubt?"

"Do not speak of our army in such a condescending manner," the Lamia named Marilith said scathingly. "This land is ours, as promised by our scout legion, the fallen Clan Borzoi."

Marche spat. "If you want it, come and claim it," he said decisively, drawing the twin Ayvuir swords, red and blue blades gleaming in the lava rivers' fiery light.

Marilith waved an arm, and the battlefield disintegrated into chaos.

I sensed that the girls went for the moogles in one corner of my peripheral vision; Marche and I headed straight for the lady Falgabird.

I'll tell you one thing right now: Marilith was NOT your everyday Lamia. She was way stronger. And, as Marche and I found out the hard way... she wasn't called the fire Falgabird for nothing.

As the two of us raced towards her as one, she extended one scaly hand before her and somehow conjured a ball of flame into it. As if that wasn't enough, she didn't just throw it at us, she blew a spoken rune into it and used it as a flamethrower! A freaking FLAMETHROWER!

I managed to hop out of the way in time, but Marche was a little slow in dodging, and so was caught with half a tongue of flame, singing his shoulder. The smell of burned clothes and charred flesh made my stomach seize up, and I retched, collapsing to my knees. Mewt, who'd been safe behind the lines of enemy reach, dashed forward in order to heal Marche's wound; Ritz, Shara, and Eleono headed to them as well in order to guard their fallen leader.

Shara tried sending an arrow at Marilith, but the Lamia waved her hand and the bolt was consumed in a flash of flames before it could reach her.

Flipping my blade, I began to murmur the well-known, oft-cast incantation. "Dying breath, light my blade and sing in shadow..." Deciding to chance it--Marilith was out of range as it was--I dashed forward, dodging spurts of flame as I went, crossed my blades, and swung at her in an X with a shout. "Omega!"

Unfortunately for me, Marilith seemed to have been prepared for such an attack. She flung up the same shield of flames that she'd used to ward off Shara's arrows; this time, though, it didn't just block the attack, but _reflected the magic of Omega right back at me. _There was no time to dodge or try to evade; it was simply there, and it was too late to try to get away. The cross of power hit me full in the chest, knocking me backwards so hard I almost blacked out. For a few instants, I could feel my heart stop beating, but there was a soft glow against my skin and I somehow managed to stay conscious as I crashed into the ground. That was when the pain started--all across my back where my skin was raw both from the hit itself and the abrasion of clothes and mail, _and _across my chest where the Omega had hit me, setting the front of my torso to that cold burning that I had sensed from all my victims.

My vision swirled into a haze of black and silver spots, creating an interesting contrast to the smoke-spatched red sky above me. The revolutions of the world kept swirling around and around, but just when I thought I was going to fall off, I felt steady hands on my back and shoulders, levering my head and upper torso onto someone's warm lap. "Stay with me! _Stay with me!" _The bitterly fearful voice belonged to Shara. I strained my vision, trying to keep her face from blurring. I wanted to be sure I could see it clearly, in case this was the last time I did.

As I was doing so, a phial of cold crystal was set to my lips, and I nearly choked on the icy mint-sweet syrup that flooded my mouth. "Drink," Shara's voice commanded. Coughing, I did, then weakly wiped traces of silvery-blue from my face. Some store-bought curative. I sent as many prayers as I could think of that the alchemists and herbalists who manufactured and mass-produced such things would be blessed, then struggled to sit up.

Shara's warm tan arms enfolded me, keeping me pressed closely to her. "Don't," she growled, her voice thick and choked for some reason, not unlike the potion she'd just forced me to drink. "It would be stupid. You're not strong enough yet."

"But..." Marilith was still on her pinnacle of rock, looking at us coldly as if wondering which of her fiery techniques she should use to finish us.

As I spoke, a sudden chill swept through my body, and I clutched at my upper arms, shivering. My breath fogged before me in a cold gray-white cloud.

"What the... what's wrong with you?" Shara held me closer. "You don't feel cold... and this place is far from it... what...?"

Before she could finish her sentence, a huge wave of... nothingness... screamed towards Marilith in a line. "Nothingness" is the only way I can think to describe it. All it touched briefly changed color, as if it had been transformed into the negative of a photograph. As though... almost as though a seam in the dimensions had been opened.

In its wake, Marilith was left helpless, drained and fainting, swooning against the ground, gasping. Fighting Shara's embrace, I turned to see where the attack had come from.

A young man was standing directly across from the Falgabird Lamia, holding a strange sword at his side. The blade seemed almost angled, and parts of it seemed to be black flesh, with fangs or claws jutting from it. Its wielder had jet-black hair slightly shorter than shoulder-length, an adult, grim long face, ice-gray eyes that seemed to have spoked the chills through my body, and a tightly toned physique. He was dressed in a skintight, sleeveless black shirt and dark leather armwarmers with patches of shining metal on their backs. He also wore long, thick, padded twill pants with braces at the knees and heavy leather ankle boots.

"Yours for the taking," he said to someone--perhaps one of us--in a cold, even voice that made me shudder even further, blowing out another cloud of white breath. A quick look to the right informed me that Marche, Ritz, and Mewt were having similar reactions to mine. Eleono, however, didn't seem fazed.

_«Certainly.» _This voice seemed to speak within my skull; it was like the other, but feminine. No emotion other than vague satisfaction. It was only then that I noticed the girl walking out from behind the boy. She was shorter, not to mention slighter, and seemed almost frail and wispy. She had long crimson hair held back at the ear with heart-studded bobby pins and hooded blue eyes as icy as her companion's, and wore a tight, slinky pink Chinese-style dress with a slit up the side that revealed about a foot or so of cloth tied at garter-length on her thigh. She also had on a pair of shiny red buckled shoes (Ritz told me later they were called "Mary Janes") with ruffly bows at their tongues, studded in the center by yet more hearts. Her limbs were pale, milky white and seemed very bare; she carried no weapons. And there she was, just walking simply up to Marilith.

When she was standing right across from the monster, she seemed to consider the writhing form, then plunged her hand and arm straight into Marilith's chest, coming out unstained but clutching something that looked like a pale crimson flame, a pinker shade of her hair.

She looked at it too, then opened her hand and let it wisp into nothing. Marilith sagged and slumped, gray-faced and dead. _«Unfit. Corrupted by something... perhaps the ones mentioned to us by our Queen. I cannot use something like this.»_

The boy nodded, shrugged, and began to walk towards us, with the girl falling into step by his side. He looked at us for a long moment when he was a few yards away, then took a step forward, looking over each one of us with a judging frown. "You must be Marche," he said finally, glaring straight at our leader. I realized that ice crystals were starting to form in my hair and along my skin, which was getting to be as white as the girl's. Slowly, his eyes slid to each of us in turn. "Ritz. Mewt. Your clanmates. And..." He seemed to consider me for the longest, and I glared back up at him although I was shaking violently. "Llednar." His voice held scorn, detestation, and something that was almost... pity. I bristled, and a few ice crystals were dislodged. "I am Ujuidar Echram. This is my companion and soulsister Ztir Ruehlam. We are the ones sent by Her Majesty Queen Remedi in order to destroy the Redwings." His gray eyes narrowed. "You are going to tell us how."

---

After a great deal of polite but frosty argument, we managed to convince the strange pair of Ujuidar and Ztir to come with us back to the Prancing Chocobo, where the rest of our clan--and the entirety of Clan Angel--waited for us.

"The truth is, we don't know that much about the Redwings ourselves," Marche confessed. "The only reason we were able to warn the queen was because of... well... a stranger who came to warn us. He's still here... he serves almost as a prophet and was the one who told us where Marilith was. Speaking of that... how did you know where she would be?"

Ujuidar shrugged coldly, glancing around with the same glazing distaste he'd held while looking at me. "Simple. We could sense your presence. I could. The same way that Ztir can sense the spirit of your companion Ritz." He gave me a passing glare before locking eyes with Marche again. "And, of course, both of us could feel Llednar."

Ztir, openly staring at me, crossed her arms. _«We were told all about you. The fallen one. The weakling who could no longer stand the emotionless state that gives we three our power. You aren't even strong enough to penetrate a spirit shield anymore. How pathetic.»_

Shara bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I kept silent, beginning to understand. These two... the sense of coldness they gave off was hauntingly familiar, but not because I had ever experienced it before myself.

Ujuidar walked right up to me, and before I could react, he reached into the neck of my shirt, pulling out my pendant with a sniff of disgust. "I'm surprised it hasn't clouded yet, or fractured. Only a pure stone gives true power... you have been sullied by these weak humans. Llednar Twem, you have lost your shine!"

I glowered at him and gripped his wrist, feeling power crackling through me. "Release the stone."

Ujuidar didn't seem to hear. "Have you forgotten what you are? You are hatred. You are misery. You are a simple reversal of your original. Even your name--like ours--is a reversal."

"Emotion is no weakness." Still, I felt the cold shell surrounding me as well. The thin oval stone of my pendant began to glow, nearly blinding Ujuidar with power. "Release me."

"I could erase you in an instant," Ujuidar warned me, although he did let the pendant go. "And it would be your soul Ztir destroys." Stepping back to his partner's side, he glowered at me.

I glowered back. Though we were the same thing--a creation only--there was just something irritating about Ujuidar that I couldn't stand.

The door behind us all opened, and a harried-looking Roland stepped out. "I'm sorry to have to interrupt, but..." We all looked at him, even the newcomers--Ujuidar with dislike, Ztir with mild curiosity.

"Lady Erika, the healer who arrived to take care of Kumo, doesn't think she can do anything for him at this stage. At this going rate, he's going to just waste away; he's been impervious to everything she's tried, from manipulating his chakras to herbal healing. She's pretty sure that he's going to die. Llednar... I know you've cared about him, so even though this is bad news, I knew you'd need to hear. If you want to see him..."

Heart sinking in my chest, I nodded, and trudged into the room.

Erika, a woman of about twenty with crisply bobbed blue-black hair, was sitting beside the unconscious Kumo, laying a soft pale flower on his chest. There were baskets of fragrance laid all around the room--I'd heard only briefly of those, but saw now that they contained petals from every kind of healing flower from roses to amaranth to phlox. Leaves of eucalyptus, muscmaloi, and other herbs I didn't recognize were also stirred into the mix. It kept the air in Kumo's room from becoming too sickly, and even I felt the freshness held within the walls. Erika had probably drawn a few circles of protection and healing around Kumo as well--the silver pentacle she wore proclaimed her a Wiccan healer.

Despite all Erika had done, Kumo looked awful. His skin, almost as pale as his hair, shone with layers of old perspiration, and a few strands of his hair adhered to his forehead and cheeks. There were bright spots of pink on his cheeks, and his eyes were closed loosely, almost weakly. It was impossible to tell whether or not he was awake. His lips were parted slightly, and a soft whimpering moan accompanied each exhalation. Reaching out to touch his shoulder, I realized that his skin was burning, even though he was trembling with chills.

"This is bad," I said aloud, shaking my right hand in order to rid myself of the heat still residing in my fingertips. "You've done everything you can?"

Erika nodded. "Everything..."

"You've tried every herb? Sage? Muscmaloi? Athelas?"

The healer looked up at me, her green eyes puzzled. "Athelas?"

I shook my head, realizing that sometimes even healers didn't know full herblore. "Uh... kingsfoil. It's common enough, but powerful."

Erika shook her head slowly. "You're mistaken... kingsfoil is just a weed..."

I gaped at her. "You haven't used it! Athelas is the most powerful curative I know! It can help heal wounds, lower fevers, and fight infection! Give me a break, lady! You're acting like you've never heard of it!"

Erika shook her head again.

Sighing, I dug a few fresh athelas leaves from the pouch of herbs I carried out of habit at my waist, though I hadn't needed them after certain events at Bervenia. "Look. I'll show you. Maybe it'll even manage to help Kumo." With that, I sat on Kumo's other side and started to chew the first leaf. "When there isn't a wound, you have to pass it like this..." Satisfied that I'd managed to crush it enough, I bent down, pressed my lips to Kumo's, and passed the athelas from my mouth to his, running two fingers down his throat in order to make him swallow it. Athelas doesn't taste as unpleasant as a lot of herbs--it actually resembles basil--but Kumo was probably still too weak to manage on his own. "You can handle the rest... I'll give you all I can of what I have. Why didn't you know about athelas? All royal healers have to learn the forgotten herbs in order to claim the title Adept."

Erika grimaced, taking the leaves I offered her. "Lord Yrael, the head of our order, has been forced to stretch the strongest healers thin in order to care for all the casualties in the recent attacks by the Redwings. I was just accepted into Adepthood, and kingsfoil... athelas... wasn't an herb I studied."

"If it's already this bad..." I shook my head. "Just keep giving him that... stop after the third or fourth leaf; he'll be fine on his own until the next day, when you should give him more." I headed out, still slightly unable to believe I'd just given a White Adept a lesson in herbal healing.

"Is it really that bad?" Shara asked upon seeing my face.

"Kumo still has a chance," I told her. "But... from what the healer told me, the thing with the Redwings is getting even worse. We've got to stop these people, which means we can't be picky about our allies. We're going to have to deal with these two on our side whether we like them or not.

"Ujuidar... Ztir... with Marche's permission, I would like to proclaim you honorary members of Clan Dragon."


	24. Further Reflections

Shadowed Heart--Part 24

(see disclaimer in Part 21)

Apparently, the Redwings didn't feel like waiting for us to give them a lacy pink invitation before they attacked. Just a day after Ujuidar and Ztir had been grudgingly accepted into our ranks, our clan got a cry for help from the people of Baguba Port.

"Apparently, a bunch of Lamias are sacking the place," Marche announced to us with a sigh. "I guess we've got to go save their sorry tails now."

"Yeah, let's go already."

---

"Sacking" was actually a good term for things. Not the joking type of "sacking", in which a sack is actually placed over an unsuspecting victim's head, but the hard-core sacking, in which whole buildings get razed to the ground. These Lamias (there were three of them) were wreaking havoc along the outskirts of town, and it was getting to be a disaster area.

We came out in full force, which was kind of funny, considering what happened.

The three Lamias were in the middle of the Baguba square, throwing around balls of flame and electricity and ice and the gods know what else.

"What the heck do you think you're doing?" Ritz yelled at them. They stopped, turned around, and laughed in our faces.

"Look at it," the lead Lamia said, its voice mocking. "It thinks it's so brave!"

"What a little shrimp!" crowed another.

"Isn't it cute!"

Looking at Ritz, I felt slightly sick. She was staring at the ground, her hands balled into fists, with veins standing out on her hands and arms. I don't think I'd ever seen her so angry before.

"Uh-oh," Marche murmured, and started backing away. "They said Ritz was cute..."

"Who the hell do you think you're callin' cute?" Ritz asked through gritted teeth.

"They shouldn't have done that," Marche commented. By now all of us--except the girls--were backing away.

"And what's with the 'it'? Do I look like some fag crossdresser to you?"

"NOW they're in for it..."

"WELL!" Ritz roared. "ANSWER ME!" And she went after them with--not a katana, as assassins usually carried--the thin rapier Femme Fatale.

"You three have just made one helluva mistake," Miserie observed, casually stringing her lacquer bow. Daryle and Nina, playing with their swords, sauntered nonchalantly towards the Lamias, who were still trying to fend off the maddened Ritz. Shara smirked and slowly strung Arbalest, twanging on the new string with a loose arrowshaft, and Chelney, whistling cheerfully, tossed a dagger from paw to paw.

"This will only take a minute," Eleono promised, slowly dragging her sword from its sheath. "Please be patient until we're done."

To the surprise of the rest of us, Ztir, who had also come along, started to walk slowly after the others.

Apparently, it surprised Ujuidar too. "Ztir! Where do you think you're going?"

_«To assess the soul quality of these monsters,» _the girl thought-said matter-of-factly. _«Besides. I don't like these creatures. They don't take the proper... attitude towards those who hold their lives in their hands.»_

Ujuidar just stared after her, looking perplexed.

"Don't get it, huh?" I couldn't help it. He just looked so funny and obviously didn't understand... I just had to rub it in.

He shot me an icy glare, and I replied in kind with a toothy grin.

"What do you think you would do, if you saw that Marche was in danger?" I asked.

The question seemed to take him off guard. "If that foolish child...?" He frowned. "Nothing. Why is that important?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so. He's your raw material. Even if you are kind of polar opposites in a lot of ways, there's a bond between you that can't be broken. It works the same way for me, and always has. I'm sort of... programmed, I guess... to protect Mewt in any way, even from a simple smirch to his honor. It's my guess that what Ritz finds offensive, Ztir does, too. She might not look it, but she agrees with Ritz and wants to beat on the Lamias as much as any of the girls."

Ujuidar's frown deepened, but he said nothing as he turned back to watch the end of the fight.

The little skirmish was short and brutal. The three Lamias never stood even the slightest semblance of a chance--not against an angry Ritz, backed up by the girls in our clan. Once they were down, Ztir tore out their souls, examined them, found them wanting, and let them die.

"What do you do that for?" I asked, somewhat curious, as she rejoined our ranks.

Ztir looked at me, and though her expression did not change in the least bit, I felt strangely like she was almost smiling. _«Her Majesty told us that the army known as the Redwings have been dealing in possible soul corruption. Part of my task is to see how far those accusations extend. And... I, as a reaper, need some kind of weapon. I have found no worthy souls so far. And I must have something to cast with, other than magic and illusion.»_

"Why tell _him _anything?" Ujuidar put a hand on Ztir's shoulder and steered her away from me. "He has nothing to do with this. Let's go."

Ztir, looking back at me, rolled her eyes pointedly. I couldn't help but snicker.

Ritz, coming up next to me, grinned as well. "You know, I think I really like that girl."

---

When we got back to the Prancing Chocobo in Cyril, we all went our separate ways, going back to whatever each of us had been doing before we'd gotten word from Baguba. For me, that was pretty much sitting and staring at the wall. Shara, Miserie, Daryle, and the vieras from Clan Angel had gotten together in a conference, and Ujuidar was still determined to keep me away from Ztir, so I didn't have anybody to talk to. Until.

After a few days of mooching around, Erika the healer came down into the common room with a big smile on her wan face. She beckoned me over, then told me what she was bursting to say.

"He's going to make it."

I sighed and slumped backwards, my knees loosening. "Thank God."

"Whatever virtue there is in kingsfoil, it's responsible for saving Kumo's life," Erika said, still smiling. "You saved him. He woke up a while ago, and now he's asking for you. He'll probably be alright now as long as he rests for the next week or so." She bowed to me. "I'm going to have to rejoin the Adepthood now, waiting for my next assignment. You all take care." And so she left; I headed up the stairs to Kumo's room, very relieved.

He was still in bed, propped against three pillows in order to stay upright; though he was still pale and tired-looking, there was a definite feel of health to him that had not been there before. For the moment, his eyes were closed, but he looked more like he was daydreaming than sleeping. As soon as I'd taken three steps into the room, he blinked and looked up at me, his voice slightly uncertain. "Kiri...?"

Okay, so he'd been napping. "It's Llednar, remember?"

Kumo smiled a little--was it my imagination, or was it slightly bitter? "I'm sorry. I was just resting my eyes until you came... I guess I was starting to drift off."

"Hmm." I pulled a chair from the side of the room and sat down next to the bed. "You alright now? The healer says you're gonna make it, but are you honestly alright now?"

"I've been through a lot," Kumo said, looking the most world-weary I'd seen him so far and rolling his eyes. "A little fever isn't going to get me."

"I hope so." For a moment I just sat biting my lip, but then I launched into the question. I just had to know. "Who's Kiri?"

Kumo flinched and stared at me. "Why...?"

"That makes twice you've called me by that name," I reminded him. "When I came in, and when we first realized you were sick. Obviously that was a person you knew and were close to... I'm just kind of curious as to who that is..." My voice trailed off as I realized that Kumo was pointedly avoiding looking me in the face. "Oh... well... you don't have to tell me if you don't want to..."

"No, it's..." Kumo shook his head, then stared at his hands, which were folded at his lap. "Kiri... he... he's... my brother." His form seemed to curl inwards, and his fluffy bangs fell forward over his eyes. For a while I thought that was all he was going to say, but after a long pause he spoke again, sharply and abruptly. "He's dead."

I winced. "Oh, shit." No wonder he hadn't wanted to say anything. I immediately began to feel sorry for Kumo, as well as very, very guilty. "My God, I'm sorry. You could've just said not to ask. I should've known I was putting my foot in my mouth. Stupid, stupid, stupid." Why, oh, why did I have no tact?

"It... it's..." Kumo's voice had dwindled to a whisper. "It's okay... how... could you have known...? I... I..." He looked up at me, and though he was trying to make _me _feel better, there were crystal tears in his eyes and on his face (which made me feel even worse).

Before my mind was conscious of what I was doing, my heart carried me over to his side, and had me placing a tentative hand on Kumo's shoulder, searching for the right words to say.

"I was..." Kumo fought to say through sobs he was barely holding back. "I... was the one..."

I remembered what we had played together several days ago, and realized what he felt he had to tell me. The image of the swordsman who seemed so frail, so delicate dealing a brutal blow to a figure in red, tears streaming down his face. Anguish. He had been forced into murdering the one he loved...

"...who killed him."

The words I had been looking for evaporated, and so I didn't say anything as Kumo collapsed into my open arms, crying his heart out.

It happened the same way it had before--suddenly his emotions were running through my heart alongside my own. There was numbness and grief and the worst kind of throbbing agony. This was something he would never be able to forgive himself for. With that sword stroke, he had not only slain his brother, but had killed the only one he would ever be able to love. My face flamed as I realized that Kumo's feelings for his brother Kiri had been a little bit more than fraternal--he didn't seem to realize that it was anything out of the ordinary, but the emotion I was getting was closer to what I felt for Shara than what I felt for Mewt, who was, after all, something like a brother to me.

Embarrassed for Kumo's sake, I tried to close myself off. The depth of your love for someone is not something that others should know (unless they are that someone). But what I had felt, I knew was eternal. Kumo was half in love with his brother, didn't know it, and would go on feeling that way until he died.

How could I pass judgement on something like that? I didn't know their circumstances, their customs, or what the right and wrong things were, so I just accepted.

Kumo's sobs had clarified to the point where I could tell that all along, he'd been saying the same thing. "Niisama... Niisama... why... why...?"

I held him as he cried and let his pain and his grief and his guilt and his heartbreak flow through me, experiencing it as he did and barely keeping from crying myself.

"Llednar? What's...?" I turned. Shara was framed in the doorway, an anxious look on her face. I couldn't speak, but she understood anyway, and came to sit beside me, holding us both as she had before. I felt a deep gratitude well within me as she did. Some other girl might have blown up in a fit of jealousy, but not Shara. She saw and did what she could to help. Where would I be without her?

"I will tell you," Kumo said softly once his tears ceased their flow. "When the time comes, I will tell you everything..."

And with that, he flickered out like a tiny flame in a storm.


	25. The Water Sigil

Shadowed Heart--Part 25

(see disclaimer in Part 21)

"Do you have the orb I was holding when I gave you the first prophecy?" Kumo asked me.

It had been a few days since his meltdown, and he was starting to recuperate. Since the majority of the Redwings war was going on along other fronts and the foreign army seemed to be at bay for the moment, Shara and I were staying with him for the time being.

"Uh, yeah." In fact, I'd kept careful watch on the little glowing orb from the moment that Kumo had dropped it. I dug through my pockets until I found it (see? Careful watch) and held it out.

The white-haired young man nodded, looking a little relieved. "This is called a sigil," he explained. "I was sent out with four empty ones." From seemingly out of nowhere, he produced three more, which I observed were a dull shade of gray. "When each Falgabird is defeated, his or her power is focused into one of these orbs, charging it with elemental power. With the aid of those who know the transmutation skills of alchemy, you can create ceffyls from them--and then a Spiritstone.

"Somebody'd better keep a close eye on these, because if they're lost I'm not certain exactly what you'd be able to do to spare your land." Kumo shook his head, his eyes darkening. "Chaos... was behind the demise of my own home."

I felt vaguely as though I'd been punched in the stomach. So we were right! Kumo had come from another world, but... one that had been _destroyed? _By something he called Chaos, that he claimed was now launching an attack on us? It was hard to believe, yet at the same time painful to see.

"Give it here," Shara said firmly. Blinking, I gave her a weird look. "I'd better keep that sigil thing, then. If you hold on to it for much longer you're just going to lose it, and _then _where will we be?"

"I will not!" I protested, but gave the jewel to her anyway. Kumo gave a sudden cough, but his smile gave his amusement away. I felt a brief stab of anger surge through my blood, then recede. I'd thought for a while that after recounting what had happened to his brother, Kumo might never smile again. This was good. I couldn't let my idiot temper get in the way and ruin the moment for him. And, okay, Shara was right about my lack of organizational skills. I probably would lose something so little, given enough time.

Clan life was going on, and Ujuidar was as big a pain in the arse as ever. Whenever we passed each other in the halls, he shot scathing looks at me, mumbled about weaklings, and tried to keep Ztir as far away from me as possible. His possessiveness, his elitist nature, and the way he looked down his nose at me absolutely drove me insane. Although what he said about my slight decrease in power was true, I knew that I wouldn't give up my ability to feel happiness for _anything. _Because of that... I almost had to pity him.

But I still didn't like him.

Nobody ever said I had to like him.

News of Redwings attacks was pouring in from every direction. Our own Clan Dragon had joined forces with Clan Angel, led by a human hunter named Datenshi Tengokuno. (A/N: I needed to catch monsters, so I turned Datenshi into a hunter. And left him there. Long-range sniping is fun.) He and Marche had hit it off well, and it was now common to see the two of them, along with Montblanc, sitting together over cider. (It was slightly bizarre, too, because Datenshi had an uncanny resemblance to Marche... they looked almost exactly the same, aside from the two black streaks in Datenshi's hair that framed his face.) Whenever I passed by their table in the pub, I caught snatches of horror stories--civilians murdered and raped, homes destroyed, smaller villages and outposts decimated.

Small groups of our clanmates were being sent out in threes and fours to join the battalions beating the Redwings back. Though Ujuidar and Ztir had gone on a few, I'd stayed in the Prancing Chocobo with Shara, Kumo, Babus, and Mewt. We'd been called on once for a relief shipment to the wounded, but that was all the action the five of us had seen.

All of Ivalice was in an uproar over the invasion that was looking to turn into a full-scale war. None of the major cities had been hit yet, and not a single Redwing had made it as far as Bervenia, but I had the sinking feeling that our time was running out.

But if we could collect the other sigils, and defeat the Falgabirds... then maybe there was still hope left. Just maybe.

I was distracted from my swirling train of thought when Shara let out a startled cry. Blinking, I turned to look at what she was staring at.

Once again, Kumo had clasped his hands over his heart, his eyes closed in concentration. From beneath his interlaced fingers came a soft bluish glow.

"Kraken Bolum, Falgabird of wave and water, has been seen at Nargai Cave. Your duty is clear! Godspeed." Shara and I exchanged excited glances. Finally! With a lead like this, maybe we could do something about the Redwings ourselves!

With a long sigh, Kumo opened his eyes, pale-faced and shaking. Opening his palms, he let the small spherical sigil roll between them. It now shone brightly with the same light it'd cast over his body moments ago.

"We've got to go," I said, breaking the tense silence. "If this Kraken thing is really at Nargai, we haven't got any time to lose. We've got to go _now."_

"Kraken thing?" someone asked behind me. Turning, I realized it was Ritz. "So what's up?"

"We know where the next Falgabird is," Shara said decisively.

"Good, let's go pound it," she replied happily.

"Wait just a minute," Mewt cautioned from the table beside ours. He'd been listening, apparently. "Remember what happened last time? We need to wait for Ujuidar to come back."

"Who needs _him?" _I asked indignantly, a little stung by Mewt's words. Did he think he couldn't count on me anymore or something? "We just won't underestimate it this time."

"Yeah. Besides, _Ztir _is still around, and she's a lot nicer than that obnoxious blockhead," Shara pointed out. I gave her a grateful smile, and she elbowed me in the ribs good-naturedly. "Come on. With Llednar coming along too, they'll be too busy fighting each other to deal with Kraken anyway."

I head-slumped. _"No_ respect! I don't get it from my clanmates, I don't get it from Shara and Mewt, and I don't even get it from _you, _mister hot-shot flautist!"

Kumo blinked innocently up at me. "Whatever do you mean?"

I groaned, but said nothing. The unfairness of it all was overwhelming.

"HEY, ZTIR!" Ritz yelled to the red-haired hatred, making several people across the room look up curiously. "WANNA COME POUND A FALGABIRD WITH US?"

Wordlessly, she walked over to us, which we collectively took as a 'yes'.

"So who's coming, then?" Shara murmured, ticking names off on her fingers. "Me, Llednar, Ritz, Mewt, Ztir..."

"Count us in, too," Marche said with a wave, heading over with Datenshi following.

"Okay, with you two that makes seven," she finished simply.

"Where's Montblanc?" I asked, looking around. You'd think that he might want to come along for something like this.

"He's doing a relief run right now, I think," Marche replied. "So're Ezel and Doned, not that I'd want my brother along anyway."

"Yeah, he probably would just get hurt," Ritz sympathized.

"I want to come, too," Kumo said stubbornly, his green eyes intense as they locked with mine.

"Absolutely _not," _I replied sternly.

"But I can _help," _he protested, looking unusually childish for a moment. "And I'm not here just to pass along messages! I can fight just as well as any of you!"

"But you're still recovering," Mewt pointed out softly. "If you're injured now, it could be the death of you. We can't let that happen."

"Maybe next time," Marche said hastily as we all squirmed at the disappointment visible on Kumo's face. "You know, when your wound's fully healed."

Kumo said nothing.

_«You will see your fair share of battle,» _Ztir told him. _«As will we all, so long as the Redwings are in this land.»_

Kumo gave a small nod of acceptance, but I still tried to avoid looking him in the eyes as the seven of us left. I didn't want to see any more sadness there.

---

Kraken, it turned out, was a huge flan. The things looked like they were made out of blue goo, had extremely potent ice magic, and were barely susceptible to any physical attacks. _Lovely. _Oh, this would be _wonderful _fun. I wished we'd managed to grab Montblanc along; his fire spells would've come in great handy.

My Omega and Abyss spells _might _be able to dent its hide... but I didn't know. None of us were really spellcasters, except for maybe Ztir. She'd said she was a "reaper", hadn't she? Who knew what one of _those _could manage?

I didn't. I had no idea what to expect but a long, trying fight.

There were the obligatory trio of mog knights, as well. The Redwings sure did seem to like those.

"Let's go," Marche said softly.

Datenshi tapped Shara's shoulder. "Let's stay back to pick off the peons while the others take care of the flan. We need to play support anyway."

She nodded, taken slightly aback. "Okay..." Turning briefly to Marche, she asked him silently if taking orders from another clan leader would be alright.

Marche just nodded, then went back to staring at the flan. "Well, I can try casting Fire jutsu, but I don't know how well that'll work... we _really _should've waited for Montblanc to come back before doing this one."

Staring at Kraken and wondering grudgingly if we'd really wanted Ujuidar with us, I suddenly hit on the answer. "Hey, Ztir, can you take a monster's soul _before _it's been weakened?"

She turned to me, slight uncertainty in her always hooded eyes. _«Yes... however, there's a much lower chance of success. It would see me coming.»_

I let my small smile spread. "Okay. I've got an idea."

"Well, at least _somebody _does," Ritz replied, whacking Marche on the shoulder. "Let's hear it."

"Shara and Datenshi can take care of the Mog Knights easily. The rest of us need to attack Kraken with everything we've got."

"That's not going to do much," Mewt said critically.

"Wait... I think I see what you're after," Marche told me with a nod. "That's a really good idea."

"Thank you. We're attacking with absolutely everything we have so that Kraken won't be able to tell it's just a cover. What we _really _want is for Ztir to get behind it and rip out its soul. If it's distracted enough by us, it'll never have a clue what happened. Mewt, cast protection spells on everybody; I think I'm the only one who'll be able to actually get through this thing's damn spirit shield, so we'll need to be prepared in case it just bounces our attacks back at us."

"Well, we can try it," was Mewt's response. He shook his head at me and smiled reluctantly. "What part of my mind do you _have, _that you came up with a crazy plan like that?"

"The _best _part," I replied impudently, planting my hands on my hips. "Now hurry up, or we're gonna have to send a runner back to base for one of our mages to help us."

Mewt sighed but cast the protections; Marche, Ritz, and I ran straight for Kraken as Ztir walked casually along the hemicircle to where she'd be right behind the big flan.

Crossing his Ayvuir swords, Marche slashed at Kraken's side. As I'd expected, his swords bounced off an invisible shell around the thing's body.

"It's like your damn Fortune law all over again," he said disgustedly, then dodged the monster's lazy swipe at him.

I hadn't thought of that before, I realized as Ritz attacked Kraken with similar results. This _was _sort of like the protection of Fortune that the queen had put on me not so long ago. While Fortune kept all attacks I received from doing any damage to me and a spirit shield never let anything get through, they were sort of similar... while spirit shields _were _supposed to be self-generated, what if someone had laid that sort of protection on these monsters?

My turn. Instead of attempting a physical strike, I closed my eyes, sighed, and tapped my inner reserves of power. Marche and Ritz both yelled in surprise; still with my eyes closed, I took a step towards Kraken, whose spirit I could sense now, and plunged my hand into its core. Opening my eyes, I briefly saw the three other images of my split self, then stepped back and faded together again. Kraken squalled and lashed out; I barely leaped out of the way before huge ice crystals began to form right where I'd stood.

"What _was _that?" Marche asked, staring.

"Biskmatar technique," I replied smugly. "It's called _Heart Render _for a reason." (A/N: So true. I have seen all of Llednar's attacks but Furycircle; they're all absolutely awesome. This one time, I broke his weapon and just sat my units there, letting him do whatever he wanted because he wasn't really strong enough to do any serious damage. Hehehehehe.)

Kraken squealed; Ztir was right there behind him, her own hand sunk deep into the gooey flesh. She drew back, holding a pale blue flame in her hand.

_«It's been corrupted,» _she reported. _«What could be causing such corrosion?»_

"I have no idea," I replied. "I just know that that's two Falgabirds down, and that was really cool how you were able to pull that off, Ztir."

She turned to me, and for a moment, she almost, _almost _smiled. _«Ujuidar was wrong. You still have all your old power... and you are still quite worthy of being one of us.»_

I didn't know quite what to say to her, standing with my face flaming bright scarlet.

---

It didn't take us long to get back to the Prancing Chocobo, passing the news to everyone we met that another Falgabird had been destroyed.

"Although seriously, you and Ztir should get all the credit," Shara told me, rolling her eyes. "It was your good idea, and she was the only one who actually did any damage."

"As if your taking out the Mog Knights didn't matter?" I retorted. "Don't be so modest."

"Hey..." Blinking, Shara pointed over to the corner of the room.

"What is it?" Curious, I turned to look.

Kumo was standing there, talking in hushed tones to a figure swathed in dark robes. Whoever it was, their face was shielded by the garment's cowl, and at my current angle I couldn't see anything about them at all, except for the fact that they were slightly shorter than he was. As Shara and I headed closer, the person gently touched his shoulder and turned to go.

When I passed them, they spared me a brief glance, and I was able to see a woman's face beneath the robe's heavy hood.

She smiled at me, and left.


	26. The Wind Sigil

Shadowed Heart--Part 26

(see disclaimer in Part 21)

Author's Note: Hey, just wondering... has anybody here actually let the save-screen midi fully play out? They don't have it (or the Ivalice-transformation music) on the soundtrack, but it's actually REALLY pretty. Give it a listen sometime.

OMG, this thing is 26 chapters already? Hard to believe... especially when I've still got... oh... three more saga/minisagas left, not including the rest of this one. Yes, I _am _going to be including the Judgemaster storyline, but with a good ol' happy Shadowed Heart twist. And _then _there's Dreams to Come, if I even decide I'm gonna write that after all. _And _Revenge. Oei... (head-slumps) They both take place after SH (even though I'm writing Revenge now); DC is prolly gonna be much shorter and to-the-point. For those of you who have read my one-shot Biskmatar, you'll probably be happy to know that Morgan, Gaol, and Aria will be in it... as well as one other OC I have yet to introduce.

Just to let you know, I recently lost the floppy Revenge was on, and the half-completed chapter I was working on is now gone. That might be a good thing or a bad one… I was thinking I should rewrite it anyway…

Hey, if you have a lot of time on your hands (like SOME people I know, who have reviewed my one-shots about five times in a row coughcoughKupoKupoKupocoughcough), you should go check out my other crud! It doesn't matter if you don't actually read/play/watch whatever it is, just go read my other fanfics! Plzplz? (puppy eyes)

On with ficcy! Woohoo less'go!

---

I don't know what made Ujuidar madder--the fact that we'd gone after a Falgabird without him, or that we'd taken _Ztir _without his say-so. He sat sulking in a corner, glaring malevolently at the rest of us, for several hours; Ztir avoided him for a change, so I got the chance to talk to her about things I hadn't been able to tell anyone for a long time.

Watching Shara gently fluff Kumo's hair from the other side of the room, I smiled. "You know... I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually glad Marche defeated me in the Ambervale. If that hadn't happened, I would never have met all these people... I wouldn't have Shara, Babus and I would still be enemies... and I wouldn't be so happy to be alive."

_«That's a very strange thing to say,» _Ztir chided. Was that actually _amusement _I heard in her mental voice? _«Glad for defeat? It's impractical...»_

"That may be so, but someone told me once that you always find your true path on the far side of suffering," I said with a shrug. "You have to think about what the gain is in a situation like mine. And for me, there's so much gain and so little loss... just because of that one tiny defeat. I don't have to spend my life in fear of the queen anymore."

_«Fear?»_

For some reason, it was easy to tell Ztir about it. Maybe because I'd just gotten so used to thinking of Ritz as a big sister by now... but I could tell her the entire story of my earlier life, where I was ashamed to let even Shara know about it. "Yeah... I didn't turn out the way the queen wanted me to, I guess. I never knew exactly what it was, but I always seemed to be doing something wrong. First, it was just the fact that I was unable to kill Marche over and over... she got really angry at me, and even used to beat me. Things got worse and worse, until all I needed to do to set her off was sleep in late, or mess up a practice drill. All I ever wanted was to keep Mewt safe and happy, but it seemed like the harder I tried, the angrier she got. He told me once that in his own world, he'd always been picked on because he was really bad at snowball fights, and the other kids thought he was weak. I thought, maybe I'd help him so things would be different here, and I taught him how to aim when you throw. Mewt was grateful, but the queen was _so _mad... I guess she'd thought I was putting ideas into his head so that he might decide he would want to go back to his Ivalice, after all. She beat me and beat me and beat me after that. Because of the Fortune law that she'd placed on me, only she could harm me in any way.

"One day, Babus found me lying in the hall where she'd left me, crying and bleeding badly. He took care of me, put two and two together... he approached the queen on my behalf, and she didn't ever attack me like that again, but... it seemed as though she hated me more and more from then on. Babus and Mewt both cared about me, but I also wanted _her _approval. She... she was my _mother, _and I didn't want my mother to hate me like that. I spent so many days just wishing I was dead...

"But here, I don't have to worry about her. I have my friends... and I finally, _finally _have a home in Ivalice. My clan. Shara loves me, and even Marche cares about my well-being. I've gone from being everyone's scapegoat, a misfit no one would take in, to having a loving place for me in both worlds. I'll never forget how lucky I've been. I'll never forget how it was to never be happy. I'm really so grateful that I got the chance to live the life I now do."

_«I... see.» _Ztir seemed pensive, turning to face the rest of the big pub.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you for a while now," I told her. "I just didn't know when I could with _that _idiot always skulking around."

Was I imagining things, or did I see her lips curl slightly at my mention of Ujuidar? Did I really see what I thought I was seeing in her? _«What is it?»_

"Do you remember what it was like, waking up for the first time?"

She gave a slight shrug, and this time her face was emotionless as ever. Perhaps I had been wrong... _«A deep blackness, and then I came awake, with Her Majesty standing over me and Ujuidar beside me.»_

"Did you know..." I fumbled for the words. "You knew who and what you were, though, right? Why she'd created you?"

Ztir paused, then gave a small nod. _«Yes.»_

"For me, it was different. I... I was completely disoriented when I woke up. I didn't know where I was or who I was, or who the queen was. I felt completely drained, as though I'd just used up all my power somehow. It really surprised me the first time I saw bangaa, vieras, nu mou, and moogles. I don't know why." I paused, and frowned. "Maybe I _am _defective..."

_«No...» _Ztir, looking at me, shook her head, letting her soft red hair fan out. _«There is something different about you... that's all. Perhaps that difference is why you are able to feel emotion, as we cannot. Llednar Twem, you still do not know who you are.»_

Her words stunned me for a moment, but then I realized... she was right.

I'd been so happy just to be loved that I'd completely set aside the matter of my scattered, jumbled memories, the way they seemed to belong to two different people. I'd long since regained my entire memory from the moment I'd awakened in Ivalice, but I'd been a little afraid to tread back into the ground of the strange images from the other side. I'd even tried not to think about what it meant that I was apparently Lune Pierrot's violinist prodigy. I _didn't _know who I really was.

"Thanks, Ztir. I may not be able to deal with this until we've cleared out the Redwings, but you've definitely given me some things to think about." I stood, stretched, and smiled at her. "Later, then."

---

"Hey, everybody! Check me out! So how does this look?"

I turned while still drinking my frosted mug of cider and promptly spat it back out.

Ritz, in the middle of an unusually strong giggling fit, stood in the doorway to the ladies' room, one hand on a small aerosol can and the other clamped just below her ribs. There were two streaks of neon green in her otherwise white hair, framing her face.

"What the hell did you _do?" _I managed, still half-choking.

"Ahh, I asked my parents for some of this a while ago," she replied, shaking the aerosol. "I told Lune a while ago that I'd only dye my hair for fun ever again, and I started thinking that green might be nice. Seriously! It's cute, don't you think?"

"Green goes good with pink," Shara admitted beside me, giggling along with Ritz.

"It becomes you," Kumo said softly from my other side, apparently covering a smile.

"Marche is gonna wack out for sure," I told her.

"It'll be the perfect Kodak moment," Doned commented as he passed. "Too bad there aren't any cameras in Ivalice."

"Yeah, you've gotta give us the play-by-play when you go see him," I said.

"I think he's talking to the leader of some noob clan," Miserie pitched in from behind her own mug of cider. "Clan... Larksong, I think. They came and asked if they could join up with us and Clan Angel to fight the Redwings."

"Really?" Shara's ears pricked up a little. "And they _volunteered _to help out?"

"I've heard that clans Dip and Clatz also formed a temporary union," I added. "There're a lot of people banding together lately, following our example. It's a good thing. Ivalice has to stand united, right?"

Kumo smiled and nodded. "Yes... if the peoples of _my _world had overcome their differences, perhaps it, too, could've been saved. And there are only two Falgabirds left."

I put a hand on his shoulder, grimacing in sympathy. Every now and then, he'd let slip a comment like that, almost as if to prove to us that he wasn't hurting anymore. It always achieved the opposite effect.

"I'm alright," he told me in a soft voice.

"I bet," I murmured back. "Anyway, Ritz—that really does look good on you."

Shara elbowed me.

_"What?"_

"You say that as if I _don't," _she told me, mock-sulking though her sapphire eyes glittered with amusement.

I shook my head at her. "I never said you don't look good! Don't put words in my mouth, it's not nice…"

Shara was still pouting. I could hear the others trying to hide their laughter, and could feel my cheeks starting to heat up.

"Agh! Don't _look _at me like that! I can't stand it! You're cute, you're cute—why do girls always have to be so _sensitive _about their appearances?"

_"How _cute?" Shara asked, standing up and putting her hands on her hips.

_"Really _cute. Satisfied?" I demanded, pushing my chair back and getting up as well.

"What do you mean by _really _cute?" Shara continued, advancing a step towards me. I backed up.

"Uh… really… really cute…?"

"In comparison to _whom, _I'd like to know?" Shara advanced another step, pointing an emphatic finger at me, just a few inches short of poking me in the nose.

I decided to hold my ground. "Okay, let's see—you're cuter than Ritz, interesting new hairstyle or no. You're cuter than Miserie and Daryle, you're cuter than Lune… mmm… you're cuter than, than… Makoto. Happy now?"

Shara grinned. "Better!" To the onlookers, she announced, "He's finally starting to catch on!" And then she leaned over and kissed me.

To make things even worse, she bent me back, the way the guy is always supposed to do to the girl—so far back that my hat slipped off. Twisting away, I made a wild grab for it and got lucky, rescuing it just before it hit the floor.

That got a lot of laughs.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha," I managed through gritted teeth, jamming my hat back onto my head. "Heartless, soulless peons that you are—I _ignore _you."

I turned, however, when the laughter suddenly stopped—in time to see Kumo close his eyes and raise his cupped hands to his chest, and catch sight of the faint green glow that cast over his body.

In the dead silence that followed, it was easy to hear Kumo's newest command: "Tiamat Dragoa, Falgabird of wind and storm, was seen in the Koringwood. Your duty is clear! Godspeed."

---

We headed out to the Koringwood right away.

Our party was formed by Ritz (the acting commander, as Marche and Montblanc were busy settling matters with Datenshi and Clan Larksong's leader, Hibari), Shara, Miserie, Mewt, Ujuidar, and myself. In addition, Doned and Kumo were joining us for the first time. Overprotective as Marche could be, Ritz and I both figured it was time to get Doned's feet wet, and so much the better if his brother wasn't around to muffle him in wool.

Ritz and I had tried to find Ztir before we'd left the Prancing Chocobo, but oddly enough, she was nowhere to be found…

Tiamat was an enormous Thundrake, surrounded (as seemed to be the Redwings norm) by Mog Knights. There seemed to be more of them than usual, and they formed a protective barrier around Tiamat itself.

"Let's see…" Ritz put her hands on her hips. "Shara, Miserie, you take care of some of those Mog Knights, would you? Find high ground and then plug 'em before they can get to us." Both vieras smiled, nodded, and took off for the boulders that surrounded the rocky valley we were in. "Doned and I will take the Mog in the front, the one with the captain badge. Mewt, stay back just in case. Llednar, Ujuidar, it's your job to take care of the dragon—Kumo, do what you can to help them, okay?"

Ujuidar looked at Ritz with distaste, and I elbowed him. "Hey, lay off, will you? She's your field commander. You have to get used to taking orders if you're with a clan, and Ritz and Marche are two of the best out there."

"I suppose you would know, wouldn't you, Llednar? Wretched, servile little failure that you are…" Ujuidar's cold gray eyes flashed, and I could feel heat emanating from the pendant he wore, a clear yellow jewel in the shape of a many-pointed star.

"You take the _queen's _orders readily enough," I shot back. "And she can be a total bitch when she's in a bad mood."

"You _dare—" _Ujuidar started, but Ritz cut him off with a glare. He turned to glower at her instead, but she didn't back down.

"Please," Kumo said softly and uncomfortably. "Don't argue… we must think of the enemy. If we can't at least set aside our differences for now, this world will…" He let his sentence trail off as Ujuidar turned that evil gaze on him.

"Llednar, handle him," Ritz told me, shaking her head. "Kumo's right, we don't have time for this. C'mon, Doned, time for target practice."

The brown-haired boy nodded grimly, a knife in each hand, following her as she took off lightly, running like a hunter or a wolf and only touching the ground with the tips of her toes as she flew.

I gripped Ujuidar's shoulder none too gently and glared up into his eyes, feeling the angry heat of my own blue pendant wash over me. "We haven't got the time for this, you pain in the ass. Fine, _don't _listen to Ritz—but you have to listen to me."

He stared at me, incredulous. "Why would I?"

"Because in this eternally effed-up little order of ours," I said through gritted teeth, _"I _happen to have seniority because I was created first." Ujuidar's disbelieving stare waxed dumbfounded. "Even _you _can't manage to wiggle your way out of that one. Now come on, let's go." And I bolted forward, drawing my swords as I went.

Sparing Ritz and Doned a glance out of the corner of my eye as I passed them, I smiled approvingly. Ritz was keeping the offending Mog Knight so busy dealing with her slashes that Doned could strike at him without worry of being hit himself. Also, it seemed as though Shara and Miserie were having success in dealing with the other moogle warriors; I could hear their annoyed cries of "kupo" as I sprinted headlong for Tiamat.

The dragon swiped for me, its cumbersome paws slow but powerful in the air. I ducked, vaulted to the side, and slashed hard, focusing my mind. I was able to physically feel its barrier slide with my sword as I struck its flank, sending splatters of blood everywhere along the ground and my clothes.

Tiamat turned and sent a shower of sparks at me with its deadly breath; I jumped back to avoid it, and did—mostly, though sparks crawled over SaveTheQueen's blade as I gathered myself to spring again. Letting out an angry cry, I leaped hard into the air, driving my heel down and gathering my magic to deal the Falgabird a backbreaking Life Render kick. It squalled, agonized, as I rebounded, then made a grab for me with both paws. A little surprised at its initiative, I lurched back, and stumbled, falling flat on my back.

Gasping, I struggled to stand, then let out a sharp yell as I felt hot pain shooting up my ankle. It wasn't broken—I must have twisted it or (I hoped not) sprained it in my fall. I certainly wouldn't be walking on it, though, until Mewt or Roland had a look at it.

I looked around—Miserie and Shara were standing helpless, watching but unable to get past the dragon's barrier to help. Ritz and Doned looked to be almost done with the Mog Knight, for all the good that would do me… where was Ujuidar? Glancing backwards, I almost groaned as I saw that he was standing in exactly the same place as before, looking sulky. Obviously, _he _could not be relied upon.

There was a white flash, and I stared as Kumo flung himself at the Falgabird with a willful slash of his slender blade. The dragon squalled in agony; Kumo had gotten its face, and blood was once again spurting along the stony ground.

Kumo had gotten through its barrier, somehow.

As my mind struggled to wrap itself around that fact, Kumo kept slicing, weaving an intricate dance with Tiamat as he tried to land another hit. His lips had tightened into a grim line, and his jadeine eyes were hard with conviction.

_This is what he must've been like before he lost his world, when he was still fighting what he calls Chaos, _I thought, awed.

But the next second, Tiamat landed a backhanded blow, and Kumo crumpled, gasping, white-faced with pain as he clutched the still not quite healed wound in his belly.

That made both of us incapable.

There was a sharp, sick roar, and I felt cold air rush past my face as that wave of nothingness swept at Tiamat, which squalled, teetered, and fell either unconscious or dead to the ground.

Ujuidar. He'd decided to act just in time.

As I finally managed to sit up, I heard the snap of twigs, and looked up to see him walking towards me.

"I didn't do it to help _you," _he muttered bitterly as if embarrassed, but held out his hand anyway. Hesitantly, I took it; Ujuidar pulled me to stand up none too roughly. He still looked sulky, and refused to meet my eyes when I tried to see what he was thinking.

"Llednar!"

I turned—Mewt was running to me, pale with worry.

"You hurt yourself…!"

As he knelt to examine my ankle, I shook my head. "It's not broken—_ugh…" _He'd rotated it a little, and I shivered, feeling almost sick with pain.

"It's sprained, but not badly. Here…" And I felt a wave of cold wash over me, completely relieving the pain. I sighed appreciatively, closing my eyes in sheer gratitude. "Don't rest any weight on it if you can help it, though. It's still hurt, and I want Roland to take a look at it when we get back, okay?"

"How am I supposed to get back without walking on it?" I asked blankly.

Shara was at my side, smiling crookedly. "How about a piggyback ride?"

---

"How much more awkward can today get?" I groaned, slumping dispiritedly against Shara's shoulder. "Isn't it supposed to be the guy who carries the girl around?"

"But you're light, and you're shorter than me," Shara pointed out. "It's no big deal, is it?"

"Yes it is. I have my manly pride to think about, you know."

Shara giggled and hugged me around the shoulders. "If you say so, Llednar."

We were back in the Prancing Chocobo, with me sitting at a table, my foot up on a free chair and wrapped up in frozen bandages on Roland's orders. Until tomorrow, he said, I was not to rest any more weight on it than necessary, or I'd just keep straining it further. Apparently, Shara was to be carrying me around quite a bit.

Suddenly, Shara frowned at something past me. "Hey, Ztir! What's up with your hair?"

I turned. Ztir had been walking along the wall, almost as if she didn't want to be seen. Though her hair had been a deep crimson the last time I'd seen her, there were now two locks of black framing her face…

Pale, Ztir turned to us and shook her head. _«I… don't know. It was normal until recently, but then… This is extremely peculiar…»_

"You would've had to have dyed it," Shara continued, frowning. "I mean, hair doesn't just change color on its own like this…"

I let out a small "oh". Shara looked at me questioningly.

"That's the same part of her hair that _Ritz _dyed. Do you think there could be some kind of connection?" I asked pointedly.

"Maybe you're right…"

Ztir simply looked at herself in the glass of the pub's wine cabinet, raising one hand to touch her hair. As she did, her fingers were trembling.


	27. Melmin

Shadowed Heart—Part 27

(See disclaimer in part one)

Luckily, nothing too bad seemed to be happening through the weeks it took for my ankle to heal. Because they'd gotten irritated with me hanging around and getting underfoot, Marche and the others had insisted on my going back to the other side, but it seemed like all I managed to do _there _was get on Cid's nerves, making everyone around me antsy by brooding. It didn't help that Lune kept asking where Ritz had gone, since everyone's long absences had become pretty noticeable at school.

The days dragged by in excruciating slowness. Cid was usually at work now that he'd been promoted again, and so I was left to the house on my own, resisting the temptation to go take out the book and pop back to Ivalice-the-country. Ivalice-the-town didn't hold too much for me when my friends weren't with me—just endless hours of reading books and manga, making myself instant ramen for dinner whenever Cid didn't come home, and playing the violin.

When the Randell family doctor finally judged my ankle safe to walk on, I thought I was going to explode out of sheer relief. The first thing I did—well, after packing up and saying goodbye to Cid, but you know what I mean—once I got back home was use the book to get back to the Prancing Chocobo.

I'd gotten lucky; almost the entire clan was hanging out in the pub when I went downstairs.

"Llednar! You're _finally _back!"

I made a face. "It's nice to see you too." Sitting down in the chair Roland had pulled out for me, I looked around at all of them. "So what's been going on here? Don't tell me all the Falgabirds have been defeated and there's nothing left for me to help out with…?"

Marche rolled his eyes. "God forbid we leave you out of the action, Llednar. It's a _war, _remember? It's not going to end in a couple of weeks just because you had to take sick leave." I blushed a little and stared at the table, feeling properly ashamed of myself. He was right, after all—I'd been treating the whole fight with the Redwings more like entertainment than a real threat, even after getting hurt like I had. "We haven't found the last Falgabird yet, and we've been way too busy to go looking—Baguba came under siege a while ago, and we had to get all the outside clans we could in order to break it."

I winced. "That couldn't have been a fun thing to do. Is the town okay?"

"More or less," Ritz said, pushing a piece of chicken around on her plate. "In the end, the palace guard showed up when the Redwings were handing our asses to us, and not only did they save our bacon, but with their help we turned it into a rout. We've got the queen to thank for Baguba surviving that siege."

"Wow." We were all silent for a while; I took the time to think rather sagely to myself that war really sucked. "How are Ujuidar and Ztir doing? Still aloof and antisocial, or what?"

"As you put it so well yourself—on many occasions, I might add—Ujuidar is still being a first-class prick, and Ztir still won't talk to anyone unless they stick her with something big and painful." Marche shrugged. "I like to think that it's not us, it's them. But I don't know how well that's really going."

I made a face. "And what about Kumo?"

"Better. Very quiet, but better—and he's a huge help when we have to fight. There were a couple of times when he was the only thing that kept us from suffering casualties out there."

"And the Redwings are still all over the place." I wasn't asking; I just wanted the confirmation I already knew I'd get.

"Yep, that pretty much sums it up," Marche replied with a nod.

I leaned forward and put my hands on the table. "Well, now that I'm back, how can I help?"

---

Crouched behind the cover of the ruined building's half-destroyed wall, I stretched my hands, gripped the hilts of my swords, and went up and down the list of every curse word I knew as I listened to the rhythmic tramp of booted feet coming from the cobbled street on its other side. This was supposed to be nothing more than recon and cleanup—why did a Redwing scout group have to show up _now, _when I only had Shara and Kumo alongside me, without even any potions or other healing items besides what we usually kept stocked?

"Of all the rotten luck," I hissed, trying not to be too loud. "Can you tell how many there are?" I asked Shara, who was standing beside me, pressed flat to the wall with the long-practiced ease of a professional sniper. As soon as I'd heard the Redwings' approach, I'd signaled my companions to duck for cover, so we hadn't had much chance to scope out the opposition.

Shara closed her eyes and steadied her breathing, her long ears pricked and quivering. "…I'm not sure. Ten or so. I can't be a hundred percent certain without seeing them. They don't know we're here yet. I'll bet they've probably got mostly Mog Knights there, but then again, since this is an exploratory group we should expect at least one or two mages among them."

I let out a long breath. "Damn. They can't make it easy for us, can they?"

"Want me to go out, scout ahead?"

I nodded. "Sure." Kumo was watching us in slight confusion, so I decided to explain. "Archers aren't usually mages, but snipers can perform a sort of mundane magic that keeps others from noticing them, called Conceal. There are some kinds of monsters that can see through it, but it's usually foolproof. It'll only last until she attacks someone, though, so sometimes it won't be very useful." I sighed and turned back to Shara. "Don't risk trying to hit any of them unless you are dead sure you can take them out in one shot, or unless they've got someone to really worry about. And if you have to attack them before you get back to us, we'll do what we can to help you."

"Okay." Shara smiled at me. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Wait." I reached out and squeezed her hand. "Be careful out there. All three of us know these guys play mean."

"I can take care of myself, Llednar," she said, but the look in her deep blue eyes told me she was touched. "Besides, I know I can count on you if there's any trouble."

I blushed, not knowing what to say; Shara did a neat little twirl and vanished from view. Noticing a slight movement in the corner of my eye, I turned. Kumo was smiling at me.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just…" He shook his head. "It's obvious in the way you two work how much you care for each other."

I could feel my face getting hot all the way to my ears and turned back towards the wall. "Come on, we need to concentrate."

He laughed softly; my embarrassment continued to burn. Ugh, I needed to keep my mind on the fight, not someone teasing me.

I closed my eyes and listened.

Within about half a minute, I heard the sharp twang of a bowstring, and the surprised squeal of an injured moogle. Then came the sharp, accented orders of the squad's captain.

Crap.

I swung around my post and dashed forward as fast as I could manage, low to the ground, SaveTheQueen and ExcaliburII at the ready. I was _not _going to let Shara get in over her head with these arrogant little slimeballs. I didn't check to see if Kumo had followed me—I didn't have the time, and I knew he would support us as he saw fit. I still didn't know his fighting style well enough to try to direct him to where I thought he should go.

Shara, perched on a rooftop above us, was loading up another arrow, but even from her lovely vantage point, she wasn't entirely safe from the Redwings' attacks—sure, most of them were Mog Knights, but they had a _Gunner _sitting in their protected circle, and he was trying to get a fix on her to shoot.

I yelled and the Redwings nearest me turned around in surprise. Before they could react, I shoved bodily through their ranks and slashed at the Gunner, knocking him out only to find myself surrounded by a thicket of swords.

Well, these guys sure hadn't been trained badly, I had to give the Redwings that much. Few swordsmen could match my speed, which was part of the reason I'd been able to emerge unscathed from so many battles. There's only so much a chain-mail undershirt can do for you, after all.

Without the time to try to pick out weak spots, all I could do was swing my swords around like a raging dervish, so I did. I didn't hit any of the Mog Knights, but they _did _back up, giving me the room to try to shove back through them again. It didn't go so smoothly this time—more prepared for my actions, they tried to slice me, and I felt a nice long cut open up my upper arm, as well as the bruising impact of swords along my back. I winced, rolled as I broke through their barrier, and tensed my injured arm as I recovered. Ouch. It was going to hurt like hell once the adrenaline wore off, I could tell, but I'd worry about it later. There were lots of slashes in my clothes too, but nothing worse than that, thanks to the mail I was wearing beneath it. Concealed armor, thought not as strong as the usual plate mail knights liked, had saved my behind from lots of trouble in the past and seemed to have done so again today.

There was another squeal from one of the Redwings; the idiots had forgotten Shara in the commotion I'd caused. As the Mog Knight she'd hit worked to yank out the arrow, their field captain shouted some terse orders and split up his forces. Immediately, some of his soldiers started looking around for a way to scale the building, while the captain himself and two of his men went straight for me.

I cursed and wished we'd thought to ask one of the bangaa in our clan or one of the others working with us along. But we hadn't, and I had to make do with what I had in front of me.

I was really getting to be glad that Marche had taught me how to wield two swords.

With SaveTheQueen, I parried the persistent Redwings' attacks, searching for an opening with ExcaliburII. While the ordinary foot soldiers couldn't keep up with me, their captain had been well-trained, and I knew I wouldn't be able to fend off the soldiers for long if he was around.

An elegant swirl of white slipped by me, and one of the Mog Knights spun off to fence in deadly earnest with Kumo, who had come in to rescue me just in time. It would've been comical under other circumstances—the moogle soldier was just barely half Kumo's height—but I had other things to worry about at the moment, like the two Mog Knights still harrying me.

With one less to worry about, I was able to get in a good hard strike at the soldier that incapacitated him, but the captain was just too damn skilled for me to get past him. Even with just one sword against my two, he managed to parry every attack I threw at him, as well as scything in with a few of his own, getting dangerously close to the parts of me that weren't protected by hidden chain mail.

Frustrated, I jumped back and yelled, pushing out my own energy into a shockwave that would throw any enemy around me back. As it was, the Mog Knight captain only staggered off a few steps, but it was a few more steps away from me…

…and a few steps that brought him back to meet the expertly shot arrow whistling up to meet him.

I sighed and eased back, sheathing ExcaliburII and mopping my forehead on my right sleeve, looking up in time to see Kumo part the last Redwing soldier from his blade with a deft little thrust of his own sword, then slam the heel of his free hand into the moogle's gut, knocking him unconscious. As he let the soldier drop to the ground and straightened up, I headed over to him, watching Shara vault down from the building she'd stayed on the whole time.

"Is everyone alright?"

Kumo said nothing but gave me a gracious nod; Shara shrugged and finger-combed her hair back, laying her ears flat as she did so.

"I'm fine, but that was my last arrow." She frowned. "That cut on your arm looks nasty."

A sharp stab of pain jolted through the wound before she'd even finished speaking, and I shuddered bitterly, a not-quite-pins-and-needles but still quite uncomfortable feeling of sharpness grating over my back as I was reminded of its presence. "Thank you, Shara, for that astute observation. Now that it's actually starting to hurt."

She rolled her eyes patiently at me and knelt beside me, undoing her golden-orange sash and ripping off what remained of my blood-spattered and torn sleeve in a none-too-gentle motion, making a hushing motion when I tried to protest. "We can fix that later. You're all ripped up here, you little idiot. And you spend so much time worrying about _me _even though you're so reckless." I looked down at my arm and realized that Shara was right; there were other (though shallower) cuts along it that I hadn't noticed before now. That jangling feeling increased, and I bit my lip as she gently turned my arm to look at them. "Well, we'll need to stick you in a vat of antiseptic when we get back to base, but there's nothing much I can do now other than tie these up." And so saying, she began to wrap her sash around my arm as deftly as Roland would bandage any wound.

I stayed still and let her do it. "Of course I don't worry about me. This is nothing I can't handle and we both know it."

Shara gave me an exasperated look. "You're a real idiot sometimes, you know that? It makes me wonder why I worry about you so much."

I opened my mouth to reply, then closed it. Shara worried about me. _Shara _worried about _me, _even though she was really the one who risked danger, being unable to react as quickly as a sword user with her awkward greatbows.

"I hate to interrupt, but—" Both of us turned to face Kumo, Shara tying her sash at my wrist. The green-eyed swordsman pointed past us with a tired expression.

We looked.

I swore.

Another, smaller party of Mog Knights had just crested the horizon.

"Why _us?" _I whined, headslumping. "It's not fair!"

But as I readied my swords to fight again, something shot past us, barreling into the surprised Redwings squad with impressive force.

"Yes! YES! Ha HA!" Shara, Kumo, and I all turned. Near another wrecked building that we hadn't paid any attention to over the battle were three women. The youngest of them, a girl who looked to be about Mewt's age who had long, shiny black hair, was standing next to a cannon-like device, doing a little victory dance. "It worked! It worked, it worked, it worked! We're in business, baby! The test run of the Skuld Super Launcher is com-PLETE!"

The oldest of the three, a young woman with dark skin and ash-blonde hair swept over her shoulders, rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Whatever, kiddo. If you say so. But next time, try to make sure it takes care of _all _of the enemy force instead of just three of them." As the younger girl stopped dancing and gave her a look that promised trouble, the blonde sauntered forward, holding out a hand in front of her and speaking a command in a language I didn't know. A sharp fork of lightning crashed down from the perfectly clear sky, sending both of the remaining Redwings flying. "Now _that _is a job well done."

While the blonde and black-haired girls squabbled, the third of their number, a vision of loveliness who looked about twenty, wearing her elegantly coiffed chestnut hair in a silky ponytail, walked straight up to us, dipping into a pretty curtsy.

"Good afternoon, everyone," she said, straightening up. "You would be Llednar Twem of Clan Dragon, correct?"

I blinked. "Um… yeah, but how did you…?"

She smiled, and I fell silent. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Verdandi Norn, and these two" she gestured to the still-arguing girls behind her "are my sisters, Urd and Skuld. The three of us have come to this land and sought you out because I hold the title of Melmin, Sage of the West."

---

"Unfortunately, the Spiritstone itself cannot be forged with only my powers," Verdandi explained to us. We'd escorted her, along with her argumentative sisters, back to Cyril, and we were all in the Prancing Chocobo now, sitting around a table and discussing what exactly she was here to do over drinks. "The Sage of the West can use her powers to make half of one, a component that we call a ceffyl, and besides, you don't have all the sigils you need yet. But with the wind and fire ones you already possess, I can create the Mind Ceffyl. Once you get the sigil of earth, either you'll find the Sage of the East or she'll find you, and she'll create the Body Ceffyl. Only after that can the Spiritstone be made, with the hereditary powers of the Sage of the South."

"But how did you know where to find us?" I asked, twisting where I sat to get a better look at her. She was even more beautiful than the queen, and definitely much kinder. And she was almost as cute as Shara. (I would have to tell Shara that later; maybe she'd take it as the compliment I meant it this time.)

Verdandi smiled at me. "Urd saw it for us in the flames," she explained. "It's taken a while to come here, but we knew that you would need a Spiritstone in this battle, so it was worth it to be able to find you. My sisters and I live in lands far from these, but we've always known that time and again, people in distant lands would need a Spiritstone, so it's important to be able to discern when others will need our aid."

I shrugged. "I… don't really get all of that, but it sounds like your family has been doing this for a while. You said the titles of the Sages are hereditary, right?"

Verdandi nodded. "Yes; the original Melmin died over a thousand years ago. But he and the other two Sages created our order for the good of the peoples of our world, and our families have tried to honor that bond as well as we can."

"Well, we certainly are grateful for your help today. Thank you." Kumo laid a hand to his heart and bowed slightly from his seat, causing Verdandi to cover a giggle.

"Please, there's no need. The Norns have always existed to help people. It makes me happy to see others happy, and as long as I can provide my assistance, I will do it. Now… would you happen to have the sigils with you?"

"I do—just a moment." Shara went digging in one of her belt pouches for them.

"What will you and your sisters do now?" I asked, curious.

Verdandi turned back to me. "At least until the threat has ended, Urd, Skuld, and I will most likely stay here, in this city. We'll give what support we can to the armies of your people in this war, and we'll do what it takes to defend you."

Shara held out the two sigils over the table; Verdandi took them.

"This will only be a moment."

She closed her palms around the two small stones, and from between her hands came a bright and pure glow, which continued to grow until it was almost painful to look at. All over the pub, people stopped talking to stare at us. Verdandi stood up and whispered something in her own language as her skirts and her hair started to billow around her with power; there was a blinding flash, and then she was holding it out to me: the Mind Ceffyl.

"May you be blessed in your battle against the evil of the Redwings," she said gravely despite the smile on her face. "Godspeed."


	28. The Earth Sigil

Shadowed Heart

(see disclaimer in Part 21)

Author's Note: Though I definitely do not want to ramble on pointlessly, I feel the need to address the complaints of many of SH's new readers that Llednar seems to be out of character. As I have tried to clarify earlier on during this fanfic's writing, I intend to see his persona _fully _explored, rather than only showing the antagonistic, somewhat scornful aspect that Marche and the player see in the events of FFTA. Believe me, Llednar's attitude problem as well as other chief aspects of his personality such as his stubbornness and great recklessness (which he has not yet grown out of despite the lack of the Fortune law to protect him) are still VERY much intact. Yes, he is a lot friendlier now and tends to be happier; remember that for the first time in his fragmented memories, he is being treated with kindness. Despite what he'd been told by Remedi, Llednar _very _much has normal emotions, which she went to great lengths to suppress in order to feed his power. Hey, you would be emo too if you were treated the way he was!

Llednar's recklessness would also be the reason why he often ends up exhausted or injured after battles. It's only been a few months since he lost the power of Fortune, and so he's still used to being able to fly into the thick of the action without having any harm come to him at all. He hasn't really started going "Oh wait, if I do that I'll probably get hurt and/or wear myself out, duh" yet, and though he's starting to get a handle on that short fuse of his, he's still liable to fly into a rage if his friends are threatened—particularly Shara or Mewt, for obvious reasons. He'll start being more careful eventually, especially once it's really driven home to him how much he's costing himself in a future "saga".

Also, though some of you might think I'm blowing Kumo's abilities into Mary Sue-ish proportions, I'm very much _not. _Those of you so concerned should go watch some episodes of Final Fantasy: Unlimited (even on YouTube if you must)—I'm not kidding about how powerful he is… and besides, that way you'll be getting yourself in on a good anime series. :D

Shadowed Heart is practically crawling right now, and I am _very _sorry about that. (cringes a little) I have a lot of things I need to be working on besides it, not the least of which happen to be my real-world responsibilities (bleck!). Why I ever decided to take so many AP classes this year is beyond me. Anyway, bear with the long stretches between updates please.

Time to get things going again!

---

When the final Sigil began to glow, all three of our allied clans—Dragon, Angel, and Larksong—were present to hear the message Kumo was ready to impart.

"Lich de Mort, Falgabird of earth and stone, has been seen at Aisen Plains. Your duty is clear! Godspeed."

The powerful golden radiance that had enfolded the white-clad swordsman subsided (becoming far less blinding) as Kumo opened his eyes and slowly unfolded his hands from his chest, letting the little glowing sphere roll across his palms. Pale from the outburst of energy, he sighed and looked up at us solemnly.

"We've got to get going _now, _while we still know where the last Falgabird is," Marche asserted. "It's just a hunch, but I'm betting that since this is the Redwings' last Falgabird, they'll be a lot more careful in regards to him than the others. He'll have more troops, better protection. So a lot of us should probably come."

"Doesn't 'Lich de Mort' sound a lot like an undead creature's name?" Ritz asked, frowning. "If this guy is a zombie or a vampire, then we're really in trouble unless somebody can do some kind of exorcism on him."

"Wait." It was Ujuidar; we all turned to look towards him. "Ztir and I still have not been able to ascertain why these monsters' souls are so corrupted. We _must _collect this one and bring it back to the Queen if we can—she should know what causes it if we do not."

Marche shook his head. "It would've been a better idea to do that when we were facing off against one of the others. Facing an undead creature with the powers of a Falgabird is just _too dangerous. _There's no way I can let you take that kind of risk."

Ujuidar scowled, but I held up a hand to shut him up. "Remember, even if it's just for now, you're a part of our clan. You answer to Marche before you answer to the Queen, and you need to think about that," I warned him.

He curled his lip and narrowed those cold gray eyes; I crossed my arms and stood my ground. But even though I was prepared for another nasty argument, Ujuidar didn't say anything.

"We should probably all go to Aisen to assess the situation," Datenshi suggested. "Marche, your group is the only one with the power to deal with the Falgabirds directly, but I'm sure my clan and Hibari's can do some good in keeping the Redwings troops off your backs."

"If we're all finisshed talking, perhapss we sshould get a move on?" Neuman suggested testily. "It issn't like we can afford to wait for _too _long, now."

"He's right," Ezel chimed in from behind me. "We'd better get going if we want to make it in time, after all."

---

The sun was just beginning to set when we finally reached the Aisen plains.

I whistled, impressed. Even in all my service for the queen, I'd never quite seen forces _this _huge amounted against each other.

Marche had been right on the money. Instead of the usual honor guard of Mog Knights, this time there were legions of hard-bitten warriors strewn across the plains. They all seemed to be physical fighters and not mages, thank all that was holy, but… there wasn't just _one _undead creature with them. There had to be about ten, each with its own protective circle of guards. It was pretty obvious what the Redwings were doing here, and it was an ugly trap—no one could get through to the zombies unless they were willing to plow through ranks and ranks of warriors to do it. And even then, they might get a decoy instead of the real Lich. What a pain.

It was lucky that Marche had shown the foresight to bring everyone along. Our clan was out in full force, along with Clan Angel. Clan Larksong wasn't quite as big as ours, but every member under its banner was there, too.

"Orders are up to you," Datenshi said, turning to Marche with his arms folded.

"We'll do whatever you say," Hibari agreed, nodding a little shyly, then hanging her head. "You're the only one with real experience here, after all…"

Marche sighed. "Well… alright. This is probably going to get pretty ugly, so everyone hang in there. Datenshi, your forces and mine will do most of the fighting here. Hibari, your people don't have… as much fighting experience or strength, so act as a support squad. Pick off anything that's gotten around us and might give us trouble." Both clan leaders nodded, grim-faced. "Now—once you get through to one of the zombies, everyone, try to attack them. If nothing works—if they have a barrier—either hang back, get out of the way, or hold them off until Llednar, Ujuidar, Ztir, or Kumo can get through to help. As for the four of you… we can't risk anything happening to you in the chaos of the battle. Without you, we haven't got a hope at winning. So stay back until you're needed or there's a clear path to one of the zombies."

"Understood," Kumo answered for us. Ujuidar was wearing a sour expression—apparently he still didn't like it that he wasn't allowed to capture monster souls for the Queen—but he nodded to show that he would still do as he was bid.

"Don't anyone try to get knocked out or badly wounded," Ritz told everyone. "There are judges here and there, but these are Redwings. You never know what they'll pull, so it's definitely better to be safe than sorry."

There were nods and murmurs of assent. As clan members took out weapons and formed ranks, a dark-skinned arm came out of nowhere to grip in a sharp angle in front of me, putting me in an awkward headlock.

"You better watch it out there," Shara warned me as I tried to push her off. "If you get yourself hurt again, I am going to _kill _you. I'm getting really sick of listening to you whine while you wait to recover when it's your own fault for overestimating yourself."

"Leave me alone," I complained. Okay, so maybe she was worried, and _maybe _she even had a right to be. But that still stung a little. As she let go, I made a face. "And… you be careful too, okay?"

Shara gave me a smile over her shoulder, then went to join the front ranks.

I noticed that Ujuidar was watching me with a strange expression, and I fixed him with what felt like a suitable glare. "What?"

He tilted his head a little, causing a few strands of his coal-black hair to drift into those icy gray eyes. "I was just wondering… if it's really that worth it to you, to trade your power for affection."

"What's _that _supposed to mean?" I asked, puzzled.

_«We both wonder, at times… what it feels like.» _Ztir's telepathic voice was barely a whisper in my head. _«To feel for her the way that you do…»_

I looked between them, nonplussed. "What do you mean? You already know, don't you?"

Ztir and Ujuidar just looked at me blankly.

I sighed and shook my head. If they couldn't figure it out themselves, oh well. They'd stop being dumb and realize it eventually.

"Pay attention, you three," Kumo said suddenly. "The battle's about to begin."

The words were barely out of his mouth when there was a violent clash of weapons as our clan union hit the Redwings' forces.

The sounds of battle made me feel itchy and restless. I wanted to be down there with them, crossing blades with the enemies that were threatening my home. Still, Marche had been right again to say that we'd have to hang back until someone identified the real Lich. In that mass, one or more of us could easily be hurt. It wasn't like we all had a…

I frowned as the notion occurred to me, and turned to Ztir and Ujuidar again. "Hey, do either of you have the Queen's Fortune law on you like I did?"

I was rewarded with more blank stares. Oooookay. That was answer enough: They didn't. There went _that _idea…

There was a sudden cry from the forces on the left side of the battle. Apparently, they'd managed to get through to a zombie, and had discovered that they couldn't dispatch it with force.

"That's our cue," I announced happily, and ran to join the fighters.

"Llednar, wait for us!" I heard Kumo cry from behind me, but it was too late—I'd already been swept up in the mob of fighters. With no way to back out, I pushed forward, shoving through battling groups of clan members and Redwings to where Lich the zombie was ringed by a circle of fighters unwilling to get any closer.

"Coming through," I yelled, and they parted to let me in; I swiped forward with SaveTheQueen and parried the Falgabird's counterattack with ExcaliburII.

"…" The zombie's decaying hands seethed green, and I jumped back as it tried to touch me. Shara'd already promised me pain if I got hurt here, and having your health drained by an undead monster was _not _fun.

"Take a nap, ugly," I suggested, and launched myself into the air, gathering power for a good Life Render. That could always be counted on to put these Redwings in their place.

I felt the ugly thing's back give under my heel and jumped away with a shudder. Nasty. Then I barely managed to dodge out of the way as it reached for me again.

"Tough guy, aren't you?" I demanded, slashing with both my swords. The zombie made a vague noise that could've been a cry of pain, but was too indistinct for me to interpret.

"Move," came a terse voice, and I jumped back (along with most of the clan members nearby) as a wide band of nothingness tore through the air, crashing into the zombie's body.

"Hey, that thing was _mine," _I began to complain, but let the words die unsaid when the zombie got back up and growled at us.

Ujuidar and Ztir pushed through the crowd to join me as I stared incredulously at the Falgabird. "Jeez, this thing is stubborn… how much can one monster _take, _anyway?" I complained, pointing to it.

"You can't handle this on your own," Ujuidar said dismissively. His habitual scowl deepened, however, as he stared at the beast. "However, I don't understand why it's still standing. It should not have survived that attack."

_«Allow me to investigate its soul,» _Ztir offered silently. _«That may be the swiftest way to end this battle, after all.»_

"I'll distract it," I volunteered, murmured my incantation to light my swords, and ran forward to deal the thing a crippling blow with Omega. As it reeled, Ztir darted around behind it, but as she reached out towards it, it hit her square across the chest, knocking her back to sprawl along the ground.

_«……!»_

"ZTIR!" Completely forgetting about the battle, Ujuidar ran to her side, kneeling down next to her and helping her sit up as she looked at him, then the zombie dizzily.

_You don't know what it's like to love, my butt, _I thought as I gave them a dismissive glance. I then turned my attention back to Lich. It was staggering now, but still making its slow and gamely way towards me. I chewed my lip, staring at it. What would be the most effective, quickest way to take it down?

"Llednar, move!"

Startled, I jumped back. Kumo surged past me, transfixing the zombie on a sword thrust as deadly and accurate as any fencer's. Lich squalled and collapsed into a pile of bones.

Even as I heaved an internal sigh of relief, I gave Kumo a slightly dirty look. "I had it under control," I complained. "Now you're going to get all the credit for killing the stupid thing."

Kumo just smiled at me and shook his head.

---

For better or worse, that had effectively ended the battle for Aisen. Seeing that their supposedly invincible leader had fallen, Lich's troops had broken up and made a hasty retreat, and we gathered up our wounded and hauled everyone back to the Prancing Chocobo.

There was someone waiting for us there once we'd reached it, however.

She was surrounded by bangaa Templars who seemed to be her honor guard, but straightened up and ran past them when she saw us collapse onto our tables.

"Um, you're all from Clan Dragon, right? I'm Bastra—I mean, I'm Colette, and I'm the current Bastra, Sage of the East. If you have the water and earth sigils, I can make a ceffyl out of them for you."

We cleared a space to let her in, and although she tripped over a chair on her way over, she combined our ceffyls much the way that Verdandi had done for the other two.

"Now all that's left is to find the southern sage and make the Spiritstone," Marche mused, taking the two crystals from Shara and examining them. "Or maybe they'll just come to us."

"Um, the girl with the Kespas title probably won't come all the way out here," Colette volunteered. "She lives in an old abbey to the south of Ivalice, and she doesn't get much news from this area. It would probably be better if someone just went down there to find her."

"Why don't I go look for this Kespas girl?" I suggested, raising a hand. "Everyone else needs to stay busy defending the towns in case the Redwings decide they want to attack us again, and I can handle myself alone. It'll be like an ordinary clan mission anyway, and I haven't had the chance to do any of those for a while."

Shara was giving me that look like she doubted me and wanted to keep me here, but she didn't say anything. Marche looked at me, then nodded and sighed.

"That might be better anyway, just to send one person. Alright, Llednar." He passed the two ceffyls down to me, and grimaced. "Set out tomorrow. Try to be fast, and remember that Shara will be mad at you if you get yourself killed."

"Ha ha," I said dryly, pocketing the small crystals. "Don't worry about me. I'll be back before you know it, and then we can go finish this."


	29. Bloody Angel

Shadowed Heart

(see disclaimer in Part 21)

The journey down to the southern sage's abbey took a few days. It was a pretty boring few days—I wasn't attacked by any Redwings, most of the monsters had gone into hiding because the war had scared them, and all the clans of Ivalice had temporarily banded together to deal with the threat facing our country. And without anything to really occupy me, my mind was left to its own devices. I worried.

What if something happened to Shara while I wasn't there to fight at her side? To Mewt, since I wasn't there to protect him? What if Kumo got hurt again? What if too many battles were lost and I wasn't able to get back with the Spiritstone in time? What if the Redwings' leader showed up early for some reason, and my friends were caught in a losing battle? What if—what if—what if…?

Worrying so much made me uneasy. Usually I wasn't the type to dwell on stuff like that so much—when the Queen had sent me out before and even when we'd gone on missions together in the clan, I'd never thought too much about what would happen if things went wrong. The only time I'd ever really worried about anything near this much before was when Makoto had gotten kidnapped. But with this war…

Gah, Marche was right about my thinking of it selfishly before. Only, now that I _wasn't, _my head was filled with gruesome images of what would happen if I didn't succeed here.

I'd volunteered to do this because I'd wanted to see it done myself, because I would've worried about things if it had been entrusted to someone else. But now that I was out here doing it, all I did was worry about how things were going _back there._

It was hopeless. I just couldn't win.

---

The abbey was a small one—barely much more than a brick cabin sitting on a particularly bleak-looking prairie plain. It was mid-afternoon by the time I arrived, and the sky was overcast with leaden clouds even though it was a pretty humid day. Heat lightning flashed off in the distance, and I shivered, wishing it would rain a little, make it a bit more temperate outside.

Still, wishing wouldn't get me anywhere. I put my hand in my pocket and briefly clutched the ceffyls, then bit my lip and headed for the door.

I knocked, but there was no answer.

"Hello? Uh, is the Sage of the South there?"

Still no answer.

"I'm—um, I'm coming in."

But as I put my hand on the doorknob, it suddenly jerked back, and someone came flying at me from inside with a wild yell.

I yelped, jumped back off the stairs, and stumbled and almost fell. But I got SaveTheQueen and ExcaliburII up in time to block my enemy's sword strike.

I found myself staring into a pair of orange-amber eyes very similar to, yet different from, my own, which glared at me fiercely for a moment, then widened.

"Ah! You're…?!"

The person who'd attacked me stepped back just as suddenly, straightening up, and I could see that she was actually a girl who looked about Ritz's age or so, maybe a year older, with waist-length silvery white hair that was much thicker than hers, a sweet face with dark brows and big eyes, and a practiced, easy grip on her black-bladed, single-edged sword. She was wearing leather armor that almost completely covered her clothes, and there was a zodiac mark branded on her chestplate. I stared at it for a moment, then recognized it as Virgo.

"You scared me half to death," the girl said, letting her sword rest as she put a hand over her heaving chest. "I thought you were some kind of bandit or something. Don't _do _that! Here, c'mon, come in."

And before I could even say a word, she'd grabbed me by the wrist and was hauling me off towards the abbey.

It was as nice and homey inside as it was from the exterior—the only thing that hinted at this place's religious origins was the double row of pews in the room next to the kitchen and the stained glass in the wall, depicting the five totema that protected Ivalice's crystals and the Li-Grim that sustained it—Remedi, the Queen.

The girl pushed me down in one of the three chairs at the kitchen table, then poured a tall glass of cider and held it out to me. "Here. Sorry about all that. Drink it, it's good. As you might've guessed since I'm the only one living here, I'm the Sage of the South, known to some as Kespas. You should call me Ajora."

"Uh… I'm Llednar," I said at last. Ajora not only had a lot of energy, but an aura of authority that made it hard to interrupt her or get a word in edgewise while she was talking. "I—hate to spurn any of your hospitality, but… I'm kind of in a hurry. I need a Spiritstone."

Ajora didn't even slow down as she rifled through the pantry; apparently my request either hadn't processed or it didn't surprise her.

"I've brought the Mind and Body Ceffyls, so it shouldn't be a problem, right?" I asked hesitantly, leaning over in my chair and wondering why she wasn't saying anything. "Do you know about the Redwings? They've attacked Ivalice, and if we don't do something, our country will be—"

Ajora looked over her shoulder at me as she put biscuits on two paper plates, and there was a coldness in her eyes that chilled me to the core. "And just why should I help you?"

"B-because… the Rukavi are invading, and…?" My voice trailed off in confusion as Ajora put one of the plates in front of me, setting jars of jam along the table along with a few breadknives.

"I know I'm repeating myself, but why should I care about any of that?" she asked, sitting down across from me and giving me another cold glance as she spread blackberry jam along one half of her biscuit.

It hit me. "You're a Rukavi," I said stupidly, staring.

"That's right. And frankly, I don't care that much for humans. I know what's been going on, and I know that the Redwings are poised to take over Ivalice. I know that their leader, Grissolm, is protected by a barrier not even a biskmatar could get through without the help of a Spiritstone. But I also know some things about the Redwings that you don't. And they're things that don't make me particularly inclined to throw my lot in with a people that despise my kind. Mind much if I enlighten you?"

I shook my head slowly. "If… we understand the enemy, then it'll help," I told her, confused.

"Grissolm is a half-blood Rukavi. He's a bastard child, and he hates all humankind, because his full-blood Rukavi mother was attacked by a human. Put very bluntly, he's the product of his mother's rape, and he's never forgiven humans for his birth. He'll jump at any chance to slaughter your kind.

"Just so that you know, this whole thing with the army of the Redwings wasn't Grissolm's idea in the first place, either. A human paid him to do it, a human from Ivalice, seeking revenge against this country and specifically against your own clan. Even though he's taking a human's money, Grissolm gets to kill more humans this way, so he doesn't particularly care. He can always kill his employer when he's done with this job."

As I stared openmouthed and tried to digest all this information, Ajora started putting marmalade on the other half of her biscuit. "I understand Grissolm's feelings perfectly, although I don't particularly care about humans one way or the other. The dominant races of Ivalice and most other countries as well look down on the Rukavi and persecute them as demons, never mind that this is just the way we are. In past wars, our species has been brutalized by yours, over and over again. Many of the oldest Rukavi can't sustain physical forms themselves and have to possess mortal host bodies now just to stay in this world."

I remembered Ztir talking about the strangeness of the Falgabirds' souls and wondered if this was what was behind it—were they ordinary monsters being possessed by the Rukavi?

"Many more of us, like me for instance, take human shape to avoid notice. Still, once people know we're Rukavi, we have to endure their prejudice. You've seen that for yourself, haven't you?"

I remembered the Rukavi who'd loved the murdered viera and been accused for the crime, and couldn't look at Ajora. "…Yeah… yeah, I have. And… things like that are dead wrong. But I still can't just…"

"As I said, I myself don't hate humans or any of the other races here particularly," Ajora told me. "I've been here for a very long time, and I've seen Ivalice grow and I know that it's not a bad country. But I do know that it's going to take a lot for me to act against my own race. So Verdandi and Colette have helped you. They may be the descendants of my fellow Sages, but they're human. They're only assisting their own species. I don't have a reason to join them." So saying, she put her biscuit back together and took a bite out of it.

"Um… if you don't mind my asking, how do you know about all this?" I ventured. It was very, very hard to question Ajora at all. I knew how she felt—I'd seen my friends picked on enough in Ivalice-the-town, and been picked on enough myself, to sympathize with other scapegoats. Still, everyone was counting on me—and there was Kumo's warning, too. I didn't want anything to happen to this world, even if there were things wrong with the way it worked. "Colette told us you don't have much contact with the outside…"

Ajora laughed through her biscuit, then held up a hand so I'd wait until she finished chewing. "I don't have much contact with _humans, _yes, but I like to stay informed about the outside world anyway," she said at last. "I've been hiding out here for a very, very long time, despite the way I look to you. I'm Ajora Glabados—that's a well-known name to Rukavi like me. I have my ways to find out what's going on outside this little place. Otherwise life here would get kinda boring, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Ajora seemed nice—but she was obviously not going to change her position on humanity in general anytime soon. How the heck was I going to persuade a set-in-her-ways Rukavi to help out a country fighting her people?

Before I could even begin to form a plan, there was a blasting knock on the door.

Ajora rolled her eyes. "Goodness, I'm popular today. _What?" _she yelled.

"Kespas, Sage of the South—give us the human you're hiding, and don't dare to intrude in the affairs of the Redwings!"

I stared at the door. I'd been _followed? _I hadn't even realized it—damn, these people were good at what they did! I stood up from the table and grabbed my swords. "Ajora—"

She'd stood up also, and had folded her arms. Her good-humored expression had fallen away, and she was looking at the door with annoyance. "I see you're familiar with one of my names, young one," she said in a voice that suddenly sounded cold and ancient. "But obviously you don't know who you're truly dealing with. I would suggest that _you _stay out of _my _affairs, or you will suffer the consequences."

"If you don't give us the human, then we'll come in and take him from you! We will protect our lord, and if you get in our way, you'll get the same treatment!"

Ajora sighed and shook her head tragically. "Children these days have no manners," she said wryly, then smiled at me. "No offense to you, though. You've been _very _polite to me so far."

I shook my head at her, my heart pounding. "Ajora—I'll head out there and fight them off! Don't worry, just stay in here!"

"Huh?" She stared at me blankly, blinking.

"You've already said that you don't want to get involved in our war," I told her. "If that's true, then you shouldn't have to because of me! I can handle myself just fine. Even though I'm fighting your people, you've been kind to me—and these people want to hurt you because of me, so I'll protect you! Just leave everything to me, I promise you won't have to do anything at all!"

The shocked look on her face said she was going to protest—I'd seen Mewt and Shara wearing that look enough times to know. So before she had the chance, I ran for the door, kicking it open and bursting out into a wave of demonic-looking creatures I'd never seen before with a yell, unsheathing my swords.

"Llednar, _wait!" _I heard Ajora yelling behind me. I ignored her.

My heart pounding, I swiped at the nearest Rukavi with a yell. There were plenty of enemies in front of me, but no judges had appeared—this far south, their area of influence had probably ended a while back. If I didn't watch it, I could actually _die _here, just like in a jagd. Remembering the previous owner of my treasured ExcaliburII, I shuddered as I sliced into the masses of monsters before me with a bright blow of Omega.

The ones I'd hit staggered back, but none of them seemed too adversely affected.

_No—are they like Lich de Mort?! I can't fight off this many of them—!_

One of my many opponents raised its heavy, clawed hand into the air, and I saw fire starting to gather into it.

I looked around frantically. There was nowhere to dodge—if I ran away from this attack, it'd hit the abbey, and then Ajora…

I raised my swords into a guarding position I knew would be ineffective and squeezed my eyes shut. _Shara…_

There was a deafening sound of impact, but no pain. As I waited, I felt a hand on my shoulder, then opened my eyes again, confused. What was going on—why hadn't I been…?

Ajora was standing in front of me with a calculating smile on her face, her left hand held out in front of her. Her palm looked slightly scorched, and it was smoking, but she didn't even seem to register the blow.

"We told you not to interfere," the Rukavi that had tried to attack me snarled.

Ajora smirked. "And I believe _I _told _you _not to horn in on _my _affairs. Now I shall warn you again: Leave this place unless you want me to wipe you from the face of this earth!"

A few of the Rukavi in the back rows shifted uncomfortably, but their leader glowered down at Ajora, its hackles up. "You will regret challenging us!"

"A-Ajora…" Even with the powers she undoubtedly had as a Sage, how could she…

She moved her hand from my shoulder to right in front of my face. "Hush, Llednar. You've shown me your chivalry—now show me your sense. You've nothing to fear here. _I _will protect _you."_

Suddenly, her body was wrapped in a chrysalis of pure power, a deep red that twisted around her form in the shape of rose petals. Strong magewind blasted out from it, and as the Rukavi edged back as one, I found I couldn't keep my footing and fell flat on my behind. Squinting into the light, I sheathed my swords and shielded my eyes, surreptitiously keeping a hold on my hat. If it blew away in this godforsaken place, I'd probably never find it again.

When the magical cocoon ruptured, it revealed Ajora—but she was taller, and looked older, and instead of that leathery armor she was clad in what looked like a second, tougher skin, deep burgundy-brown in patterns and whorls that slicked along the sides of her legs, over her torso and breasts, up to her cheekbones. Brilliant white wings edged in red feathers spread from her back, with a miniature pair at the sides of her head. Her silvery hair spilled out and up behind her, and she spread her arms wide, stretching out fingers that had grown claws, and laughed.

"For, lo! I am Ajora Glabados—Bloody Angel Altima! Look upon my powers, ye mighty, and despair! Beg for your lives if you wish, but know that none of you will be spared!"

Her laughter rose to a hysterical, insane pitch, and the heavy clouds parted, raining black-red forks of lightning onto the Redwings who'd followed me. Brightness flared up all around me, and I covered my face—it'd probably blind me if I looked directly.

I heard screaming and the crackle of electricity and Ajora's laughter, and then—_silence._

Cautiously, I moved my arms away from my face and looked out. The short grass in front of the abbey had all been torn away, displaying the sand beneath. Lumps and whirls of glass now lay there, some displaying lovely red smoky patterns that a part of me noticed in a hysterically high tone were traces of the Redwings' blood.

Ajora was standing—er, hovering—before me with her hands on her hips, looking out at the empty glass plains as though admiring her handiwork.

I was scared. Well, any idiot in his right _mind _would be scared with what had just happened—but still, the Ajora I'd met was in there too, right? Just changing into her true form couldn't make her crazy and evil _all _the way through, could it?

There was only one way to find out. I stood, swallowed hard, and ventured a few steps closer to her. "A-Ajora, are you… alright?"

She turned to look at me, her baffled expression comical on her more adult features. "Am I alright?" she repeated, then burst out laughing.

Oooohkay. Was that _amused _laughing, or _I'm-crazy-and-I'm-going-to-fry-you-too _laughing? No backing out now, though.

"Ahahaha… ahh." Touching down, Ajora crossed the sand and grass to come over to me, then tapped me on the nose with a clawed finger. "You're a funny human. I like you! There aren't many who'd try to defend me, even without being ignorant of my ability to smite anything bothering me where it stands. Alright—that settles it. Since you've impressed me so much with your attitude, I'll help you this once. Show me the ceffyls."

I blinked once, then again, thrown for a loop. With Ajora looking at me expectantly, I hesitantly drew the Mind and Body Ceffyls out of my pants pocket and held them out to her.

"Excellent work… just as I'd expect from descendants of Melmin and Bastra. Here—" And she took them from me, holding them up in the air and pulling her hands away so they'd remain suspended in the air. There was a bright hum, and then a feeling like a solid impact that made the air ripple as the two ceffyls fused into a larger blue gem.

"Take the Spiritstone, Llednar. It's yours."

A little wonderingly, I held out my hands; Ajora dropped hers, and the Spiritstone fell into my palms. It felt pleasingly heavy, and there was still a slight tingle of power in it as far as I could feel.

"Alright, then. Go save Ivalice, and be a hero. Teach these rude children how to behave. And—give my regards to Verdandi and Colette, if you see them again."

"I will," I replied, relieved, as I pocketed the precious stone. "And… thank you."


End file.
